More Than You Think You Are
by BleachBox Romance
Summary: Collection of IchiRuki oneshots. It wasn't until the very moment when she had nearly lost him again when she realized that he was her guardian angel.
1. Don't Say Goodbye

_Well, isn't this just typical of me. I have my hands full with several stories, and low and behold, I feel the need to make a new one. I am the absolute WORST with this, and I can't seem to harness and control it. I'd ask for help, but the fact of the matter is, I love the insanity of having to cram and speed-type just to update a story. I always seem to do my best work under the preassure of a deadline._

_Anyways, as it said in the summary, yes, this is a little fluffy one-shot collection for the pleasure of the good people that take time out of their days to read my poorly-written crap. (And for this, I thank you all!) Nothing too hard-core, no lemons or hanky-panky or stuff like that. Just some good old-fashioned IchiRuki fluffy fluff. Examples: hugs, kisses, and no little IchiRuki offspring running around, unless it's necessary (it always seems to be, though...)._

_For the first chapter, I have decided to use the genius work of the band Skillet (lurv them to death) in a desperate attempt to hid the fact that, comparied to most of the people on this webside, I can't write. Here are some quicky disclaimers:_

_Band: Skillet_

_Song: Say Goodbye_

_Album: Comatose_

_No, I don't own Bleach (still trying to, though!)._

* * *

_**June 14, 8:03 PM**_

"So, you're really going back to Soul Society, huh?" Ichigo shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants, leaning against the wall. The room was pitch black; no one had bothered to turn a light on. His amber eyes followed Rukia across the room as she gathered her belongings, stuffing them into a red duffel bag. It was like watching a movie play out before his eyes, not being able to stop or change what was happening, no matter how much he wanted to. The rain poured down mercilessly on the window, the pattering noise growing louder with the passing seconds.

"Yeah." Rukia quietly answered, putting one of her shirts into the bag. A few other articles of clothing followed the shirt before she zipped up the bag, turning around to face Ichigo. "Do have a picture of you I could keep?"

_**Things are changing  
It seems strange and  
I need to figure this out.  
You've got your life  
I got mine  
But you're all I cared about.**_

The question caught Ichigo off guard, but he just shrugged and walked to his desk. Opening the drawer, he pulled out a small photograph and handed it to Rukia, his scowl still visible. "Here."

Blinking, Rukia reached out and took the photograph, her fingers gently brushing against Ichigo's. The back of the photo read, _June 29, back from Soul Society_. She flipped it over and remembered that it was the picture she made Ichigo take with her at the amusement park when they returned from the Soul Society. Ichigo had been standing next to her, practically propping her up, since she could barely stand on her own after riding a roller coaster called "The Raptor", which went upside down, like, fifty times.

And then five minutes after they had the picture taken, Rukia had thrown up two chili dogs and a pint of Dr. Pepper all over Ichigo's favorite My Chemical Romance shirt. After purchasing a black shirt with one of the roller coasters designed on the back, Ichigo had been dragged to the ferris wheel by Rukia who had eagerly asked the cursing teen, "What kind of fascinating contraption is this?" As it turned out, the "fascinating contraption" had been a little too tall for Rukia's liking, resulting in her curling up into a little ball against Ichigo and holding onto him for dear life.

_**Yesterday we were laughing,  
Today I'm left here asking,  
Where has all the time gone now?  
I'm left alone somehow  
Growing up and getting older  
I don't want to believe it's over. **_

"You kept this picture?" Rukia asked quietly, still looking at the faded photograph.

Ichigo scoffed, shrugging his broad shoulders. "Of course I kept it, fool. You think I just throw all the pictures people give me out?"

Rukia blinked, shrinking back at the teen's angry tone. "N-no, it's just that-"

"Sorry, just forget it." Ichigo shook his head and looked out the window at the rain drops hitting the glass. He hated the rain. It almost always signaled that something bad was going to happen in his life. First, it was his mom dying to protect him from a hollow. Now, it was Rukia leaving for the Soul Society. Leaving everything she had on the earth to go back to the SS. Leaving _him _for the Soul Society. Had he done something to make her go back, to drive her away? He really didn't know, because the only explanation she had given him as to why she was leaving was that "she belonged there."

_**Don't say goodbye,  
Cause I don't wanna hear those words tonight.  
Cause maybe it's not the end for you and I.  
And although we knew  
This time would come for me and you,  
Don't say anything tonight  
If you're gonna say goodbye. **_

Ichigo cocked his head to the side, watching her tuck the picture safely between two of her shirts before re-zipping the duffel bag. He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the closed closet door, watching Rukia's movements carefully. "Do you really want to go? Is this what you want, or what you think everyone over there will want?"

"Ichigo," Rukia turned around to face him, eyes brimming with tears. "We've talked about this. My life isn't here; it's over there. I have nothing here."

"No, no" Ichigo shook his head, his voice rising. "Please don't give me that. You _do _have a life here. You've got people here that care about you and that don't want to see you go. You've got Karin, Yuzu, Inoue, Uryu, and a hell of a lot of other people that want you to stay here. _I _want you to stay here. Are you just gonna leave this all behind, just like that?"

"This isn't my world, Ichigo!" Rukia yelled, looking up into his eyes. "This is _your _world. You have friends, a family, a home, a life."

"And you don't? Look me in the face and tell me that you can walk away from everything here, that this all means nothing to you." Ichigo challenged, folding his arms over his chest.

_**Do you remember  
In December  
How we swore we'd never change?  
Even though you're leaving  
That our feelings  
Would always stay the same. **_

"Do you honestly think that I'm leaving because you don't mean anything to me?"

"I never said anything about me; I just said about everything in general." Ichigo smirked triumphantly, looking down at the raven-haired shinigami.

Rukia blushed, looking away from Ichigo with a scowl on her face. "That makes no difference. You know what I meant. I mean, I couldn't survive here. I still don't know how to work one of those stupid juice-things, for the love of God! How am I gonna survive in a place full of things I've never even heard of?"

"First of all," Ichigo began, his expression still cold, "You don't know how to work a juice box because every time I do it for you, you never pay attention. And second of all, if you weren't so stubborn and asked for help, you might know how to work a computer or a TV. We aren't born knowing how to work these things; we have to _learn_. You can learn just as easily as anyone else can."

Ichigo's as-a-matter-of-fact statement received no response, but instead of pressing the matter like he desperately wanted to, he leaned against the wall and remained quiet. It hurt just to watch Rukia pack, knowing that it was only a matter of minutes before she walked out of his room, and very possibly, out of his life. But she wouldn't listen to his reasoning, which had taken him around thirty minutes to construct, and there seemed to be no other options available except for him to tie her to a chair until she promised to stay.

_**I wish we could be laughing  
Instead I'm standing here asking,  
Do we have to end this now?  
Can we make it last somehow?  
We both know what we've gotta say, not today  
Cause I don't wanna leave this way.**_

A bright bolt of lightning flash just outside of the window, quickly followed by a deafening crack of thunder. Rukia jumped back slightly, clearly startled by the sudden noise, but did not let it phase her for too long. She looked back at the bag she had been packing, and murmured quietly, "I never liked thunder storms."

Ichigo heard the nearly inaudible comment, and replied so she could hear him, "Then don't go out into it." He prayed that Rukia couldn't tell that it was a plea hidden within one of his smart-ass comments. He never pleaded, but now he was and even worse, he was hiding it behind something that he knew might push her even further away from him. The part of him that wanted her to stay, which was practically all of him, wasn't breaking through the rough exterior that gave the idea that he couldn't have cared less whether or not she left.

An even louder, sharper crack of thunder startled both of them, and when Rukia jumped back from near the window in surprise, her foot got caught on the leg of Ichigo's bed and she fell forward, loosing her balance. She expected to crash down onto the hard, wood floor, then have the teen across the room make some stupid comment about her being uncoordinated. She shut her eyes, waiting for the painful fall…but it never came. Instead, two strong arms pulled her out of her descent and against someone's chest, holding her body close. She looked up at Ichigo's face, the trademark scowl still there. The only thing different was that he was holding her against his defined chest in a gentle embrace. "Ichigo,"

"Shut up." Ichigo's command was stern, but unbelievably soft, all at the same time. One of his arms had circled around Rukia's waist, keeping her body comfortably pressed against his, and his other hand rested on the back of her head, softly pressing her face against his shoulder.

_**Don't say goodbye,  
Cause I don't wanna hear those words tonight.  
Cause maybe it's not the end for you and I.  
And although we knew  
This time would come for me and you,  
Don't say anything tonight  
If you're gonna say goodbye. **_

Rukia stopped all movement, trying to decide whether she should move away and return to Soul Society like she knew she should have, or return the soft embrace like she desperately wanted to. The Soul Society was where she belonged, true; but was what Ichigo had said about her having an equally important life in the real world true? Would she be able to adapt to what the orange-haired teen referred to as "modern technology"? She knew the Soul Society was where she belonged, with Renji and her brother. But she desperately wanted, no, _needed_ to stay with Ichigo.

The raven-haired shinigami could tell that, beneath Ichigo's calm exterior, embracing her must have been the most terrifying thing he had done in a long time. She could tell that it was true when she felt his heart beating rapidly in his chest, causing his torso to faintly twitch with each heartbeat. Another crash of thunder made her instinctively press herself closer to the teen's body, tucking her head under his chin in an attempt to drown out the small rolls of thunder that crashed in the distance.

Rukia could hear Ichigo laugh softly at her surprise-induced actions, the comforting hug tightening so that their bodies were pressed firmly together. The orange-haired teen's brisk heartbeat had begun to slow down, his body becoming less rigid as the feel of the girl's body pressed against his made the tense muscles in his body relax. The only noise being made was the occasional roll of thunder and the sound of the rain hitting the glass window.

_**And if it's over  
It hurts but I'm giving you my word.  
I hope that you're always  
Happy like we were.  
Happy like we were. **_

Neither of them spoke for the longest time, simply enjoying the comfort that the embrace offered. As much as Rukia wanted the moment to last forever, for them to spend the rest of their lives in that position on that spot, to never have to worry about where they belonged or any other petty matters, she pulled back from the hug and looked into Ichigo's amber eyes, his arms still around her small body. His face had kept the hard scowl, but his eyes silently pleaded for her to stay with him. "Ichigo," The look in his eyes, the hope that dimly lit them, nearly tore her apart. "Ichigo, I…I'm sorry, but-"

"No." Ichigo interrupted, pulling her against his body. "Please," His voice was still hard and uncaring, hoping that it would conceal the fact that he was begging, "Please. If you're going to say good bye, then just don't say anything. I can't stand to hear you say good bye."

The pain and shattered hope in Ichigo's voice consumed Rukia with guilt. He sounded utterly defeated, as if something he had been fighting for was being ripped out of his life; which, much to Rukia's displeasure, was exactly what was happening. He had given his blood to bring her back, and she was running back to the place he had rescued her from. How immensely it was effecting him surprised her; after all the times he had called her a fool, or a weirdo, or a dope, she would never have guessed that he would care whether or not she left.

_**Don't say goodbye,  
Cause I don't wanna hear those words tonight.  
Cause maybe it's not the end for you and I.  
And although we knew  
This time would come for me and you,  
Don't say anything tonight  
If you're gonna say goodbye. **_

"Please," Ichigo looked down at her, his calloused hands gently holding her face. His eyes will filled with sorrow and anguish, a piece of his heart threatening to leave with Rukia. "If I mean…if I've _ever meant _anything to you, then just…_please_," He shut his eyes, resting his forehead against Rukia's. Lightning flashed out side the window, casting shadows across the teen's defeated face. "Please stay. Don't say good bye, and stay with me."

"I-Ichigo…" Rukia murmured sadly, guilt evident in her voice. "I…I can't stay here. I don't belong here-"

"You _do _belong here." Ichigo interrupted, his lips barely touching hers as his hot breath crashed against her face. "Forget about everything; forget about the Soul Society, forget about where you think you do and don't belong. Forget about everything but us and tell me honestly. Do you want to leave?"

_Of course I don't, fool_, Rukia thought, her fists holding tightly to the shoulders of Ichigo's shirt as she attempted to speak. "No, but-"

"But nothing." Ichigo firmly stated, the feeling of his lips gently grazing against her nearly driving Rukia insane. "You don't want to leave, so stay."

Daring to ask the question that had been plaguing her thoughts since the conversation had begun, Rukia swallowed before asking in as gentle a voice as she could muster, "Why? Why do you want me to-"

Rukia's question was abruptly cut off as a pair of warm lips pressed against hers, silencing her immediately. She was surprised at Ichigo's forward and unexpected actions, but quickly melted into the gentle contact. His rough hands held her face to his, keeping her from moving away; not that she wanted to, anyways. One of her arms wrapped around his neck while the other held onto his shirt, steadying herself as her legs threatened to give out beneath her. Ichigo pulled back slowly, as if he regretted breaking the contact between them, and murmured quietly, "Why? Because I love you. God, I've loved you for the longest time."

"Ichigo…" Rukia whispered, her voice pained; he couldn't really lover her, could he? She weakly lifted her hand, letting her fingers run down his face and over his soft lips. She felt his hand gently take hers, holding her fingertips to his lips.

"It's taken me this long to push aside my foolish pride and say this, so please don't push me away." Ichigo whispered, kissing her fingertips softly. "I don't care what it takes; I'll do everything I did to save you a thousand times over if you just would stay with me."

Rukia forced a small smile, looking kindly into Ichigo's hopeful eyes. "Would you let me go and unpack if I said yes?"

"No." Ichigo smirked, capturing her lips once again in a passionate kiss. Rukia felt him smile against her lips, but ignored it and breathed in his scent, leaning up against him. And for the blissful moments of contact they shared, there was nothing in the world except for them.

* * *

_The Raptor is a kick-ass rollercoaster at Cedar Point in Sandusky, Ohio. On Friday, I'm gonna ride it so many times that I'll barf up my stomach (lovely, no?). And if any of you have ever been there before, you know what I mean :D_

_For those of you who haven't, drop everything your doing and hitch a ride up there ASAP!_

_-BleachBox Romance _


	2. Blockbuster Night

_Aww, jeez. Y'all were so nice to me when you reviewed, it really made my day reading them. I'm serious. The feedback was way better than what I expected. Well, thanks to all those who reviewed! You all got me pumped to write the second chapter!!_

* * *

"No way." Ichigo vigorously shook his head, looking away from the raven-haired shinigami and back at his book, which, needless to say, wasn't very good. The idea of watching a movie made him want to drop the boring book and make a bowl of popcorn; but since it was Rukia who had picked out the movie, his book suddenly seemed to be an epic masterpiece. He leaned back against the couch and pulled the book up in front of his face. "I'm not letting you watch that movie."

Rukia crossed her arms over her chest and stared defiantly at Ichigo. When she saw that her stare had not phased him at all, she walked up to him and put the movie case right in his face. The agitated teen sighed, dropping his book into his lap and snatching the DVD case out of the girl's hand. "_The Grudge 2_? Are you serious?" He shook his head when Rukia nodded, waiting for his answer. "Do you remember what happened when I took you to see the first _Grudge_ movie?"

_Ichigo felt something poking his side, but just thought that it was his mind playing tricks on him. He grunted and rolled over, burying his face into his pillow. Another growl escaped his mouth as the poking persisted, more sharp and vigorous than before. "What the hell-?" He turned back around and opened his eyes, sighing when he saw Rukia staring back at him. He cocked an eyebrow, his foggy amber eyes half open. "What is it?"_

"_I think there's something in the closet." Rukia whispered, crouching and huddling up next to Ichigo's bed._

"_Oh my God." Ichigo rubbed his eyes, sighing in annoyance. "Are you serious?" He grumbled several choice words before getting out of the bed and walking over to the closet. He peaked his head inside and looked around, finding nothing, of course, and turned around. His eyes narrowed when he saw Rukia curl up on the bed and disappear under the covers. "What are you doing?"_

_No answer. Ichigo sighed and walked over to the bed, lifting the covers and cocking an eyebrow at the petite shinigami. "Have you absolutely lost it? What are you doing in my bed, fool?"_

_Rukia shot Ichigo a strange look before snatching the covers out of his hand and pulling them back over her head. Ichigo smirked cockily; his sisters used to do this when they had seen scary movies and wanted to sleep with him for the night. Deciding to play along for a while, he sat on the edge of the bed, crossing his arms over his chest. He waited for a few moments, tapping his sock-clad foot on the floor, before a tiny voice from under the covers spoke his name, "Ichigo?"_

_The said teen suppressed an amused chuckle before asking in as calm and cool a voice as he could muster, "Yeah?"_

_Ichigo could hear a brief pause, a slight moment of hesitation before a shy and embarrassed voice asked, "Could…could I sleep with you tonight?"_

_Bingo. He knew it. But he was tired and his bed was only big enough for one, so the word 'no' almost left his mouth. He simply sighed, realizing that he probably wouldn't be able to get any sleep that night anyways, and muttered, "Yeah, fine." The teen sat back against the headrest, propping one leg up on the edge of the bed and letting the other dangle over the side. He shut his eyes, trying not to concentrate on how uncomfortable his position was, and folded his arms over his chest._

_Ichigo was just about to doze off when he felt something warm press up against his leg and a weight rest on his lap. He cracked open a cloudy eye and looked down at Rukia, who had curled up next to him and had rested her head on his thigh, clutching the bottom of his shirt. _

"Yeah, and I _need _to get some sleep tonight. I go one more night chasing hollows instead of sleeping, I'm gonna put myself out of my misery for good." Ichigo picked his book back up and continued to read it, pushing the DVD case out from in front of his face. "So the answer is no. Now scram and go draw some hideously deformed rabbit."

Rukia growled at him and threw the movie case at his head, its corner hitting Ichigo square on the forehead. She sat down next to him and stared up at his face with large puppy-dog eyes. "Please? I promise I won't wake you up."

"No. Get lost, ya pest." Ichigo yelled, scooting to the other end of the couch.

"Fine." Rukia stood up, putting her hands on her hips. "Then I'll just tell everyone at school that you read fashion magazines."

"What?!" Ichigo shouted incredulously, dropping his book and loosing his place in the process. "I do not! And besides, you have no proof." He gawked in horror as Rukia held up several fashion and makeup magazines, the same ones she had bought the previous day for "future uses", which obviously involved black mailing him. The orange-haired teen sighed in defeat, tossing the movie case back to the girl. "Fine, put the stupid movie in."

Rukia smirked triumphantly before turning to start the movie. Ichigo rested against the backrest of the couch, rubbing the side of his head. It wasn't that he desperately needed sleep, or even that Rukia had woken him up at two in the morning, but that it made him uncomfortable thinking about how nice it had felt to sleep next to her. He decided not to think about it and settled against the armrest of the couch as the raven-haired girl turned out the lights and started to play the movie.

Ichigo figured that it wouldn't be all too bad; he liked the movie, and now he had an excuse to watch it for probably the hundredth time since it had come out. The beginning credits to the movie began to roll. Much similar to the ones in the first movie, and eerie music floated throughout the room. The teen looked over at Rukia, who was sitting right next to him. She appeared to be handling the movie fairly well, much to Ichigo's surprise. Perhaps, by the grace of whatever god there was out there, the movie wouldn't scare her all that bad.

As the film progressed, he noticed that, by what seemed like millimeter by millimeter, Rukia had scooted closer to him so that their bodies where slightly touching. Ichigo could feel every wish of the movie not scaring the girl flush right down the drain. He had to admit that the second _Grudge _movie had been scarier than the first, but it had never really had a huge effect on his sleeping. Now, he simply dreaded to think about what kind of effect it would have on Rukia.

Ichigo yawned, growing tired, and shut his eyes. He let his tense body relax, his figure resting against the cushions of the couch. He could faintly hear the audio of the movie, which, despite it being as scary as hell, gave him some comfortable background music. He could feel his head tipping forward, his chin resting against his chest, and was about to fall asleep, when a loud ringing noise, followed by a shrill shriek, shot through the house.

A torrent of vivid and surprised curses escaped Ichigo's mouth. He gave a deep, shaky sigh as he realized that it was only the telephone ringing. Growling, he reached over and picked the phone up, then abruptly slammed it back onto its cradle when the annoying voice of a telemarketer floated from the earpiece. The teen rubbed the side of his head, resting his elbow on the armrest, and was about to fall back asleep when he felt something warm curl up next to him, clinging to his arm in a death grip.

Ichigo looked down and saw Rukia, wrapped tightly in a large, thick blanket, holding onto his arm as if it were her lifeline. Her large, violet eyes were glued to the television screen, her grip on the teen's arm tightening as the music from the movie became suspenseful. "It was just the telephone, you know." Ichigo stated quietly, looking down at the shinigami huddled up next to him. Just as something in the movie jumped out from nowhere so that it was all the TV screen could focus on, Rukia pulled the orange-haired shinigami's arm around her and looked away, pressing her body against his.

"Rukia," Ichigo sighed, looking down at the girl who was then practically in his lap, "If this is scaring you, then just turn it off."

"I'm not scared." Rukia corrected as-a-matter-of-factly, scooting an inch away from the teen, but keeping his arm around her shoulders just in case. "For your information, I'm just cold. I read a book and the main characters used body heat to keep each other warm, so I figured we could do the same." Her reply signaled how oblivious she was to the fact that: one, Ichigo could see right through her excuse and that she was, in fact, scared silly; and two, the rather awkward position they were in.

"Yeah, whatever." Soon after his sarcastic reply, Ichigo grunted as Rukia elbowed him in his stomach, which, to say the least, didn't feel so good. He allowed his arm to remain around her, loosely enough to signify that he wasn't paying too much attention to her, which was the exact opposite of the truth. The orange-haired teen was completely disregarding the movie and watching Rukia out of the corner of his eyes, watching as she began to inch closer to him yet again.

It probably didn't help when Rukia gently laid her head against Ichigo's shoulder, yawing tiredly as she continued to watch the movie. The teen stiffened against the girl's seemingly "forward" move, but relaxed as a foreign feeling bubbled up from within his stomach. Warmth? Was Rukia cuddling up next him causing him to feel warm inside? He simply refused to believe it, no matter how much he enjoyed the feel of her body curled up next to his, her intentions completely innocent, but the situation feeling like it was crossing the "innocent" barrier into something a little more serious.

Sighing and letting his muscles relax, Ichigo adjusted himself so both he and Rukia were comfortably pressed against each other, both of their eyes drooping shut as the hour became late and the movie began to reach its ending point. Ichigo rubbed his eyes with his free hand, looking down at Rukia who had, without him knowing, fallen asleep against his shoulder. He yawned and shut his eyes, letting sleep overcome him.

---------------------------------

And when he awoke a few hours later before the sun had risen, Ichigo had noticed that in their sleep, he and Rukia had shifted into rather…conspicuous positions. He was laying on his back, his head propped up against the armrest, with Rukia laying on top of him. Her head was resting on his shoulder, her hands clinging loosely to his wrinkled shirt. The teen grinned, laying his head back on the armrest and shut his eyes. And when Rukia woke up and found them in that position…

…He would blame it on her.

* * *

_-5:30 AM EST_

_Heh heh. Fluffy. I pulled an all-nighter Tuesday night, just so I could finish this. Screw this all-nighter, I'm going to sleep!_

_-BleachBox Romance_


	3. Spirit Lives On

_In honor of the Fourth of July (and the fact that it's the beginning of "12 Days of Ichigo Torture" on the IchixRuki live journal community), I decided to make an extra-long 4,000 word chapter. I tried to experiment around and use a different style of writing (does it seem any different?), you know, to see if I could push my envelope a bit. I started writing this Sunday night when I was watching "Titanic", which was where I got the idea from. _

_There is a character death, but it's not as sad once you read the paragraphs after it._

* * *

As Kurosaki Ichigo grew both as a shinigami and as a human, he found that death wasn't as scary as he had imagined. It was merely a fact of life, something that brushed past him as often as the wind. He began to fear it less and less, letting the danger and adrenaline of his duty become a part of his psyche. He let the initial fear of when the first attack of a battle was coming swallow him whole, then become his drive to win and survive. The fear became something so insignificant that he hardly noticed it during battle, the largest effect being a small drop of nervous sweat that would roll down his brow at the sight of an exceptionally strong enemy.

As days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, and as his opponents gradually became stronger and stronger with each passing fight, Ichigo learned to welcome death, to embrace it as one of his reasons not to die. Death became a companion that the teen learned to live with at all times, even when he wished he could escape its company. It was something that traveled with him, keeping close, the chill of its breath sending shivers down his spine.

Ichigo found that there were others who knew the feeling, who constantly felt Death's presence with them. Most of them were shinigami much like him, those who had learned to treat death as a friend and not as an enemy. They were people like Abarai Renji and Kuchiki Byakuya, and Ishida Uryu and Inoue Orihime. People like Kuchiki Rukia, whom had been the reason Ichigo had learned to accept death. He knew that if he wanted to win, he needed Death's help. And he knew that if he wanted to protect those that he loved, he would need to win every battle he engaged in.

There were other reasons, of course, that Ichigo learned to befriend Death. But the need to protect those around him, the instinctive drive to grow stronger, and love were the most prominent. It wasn't until he stopped and thought about why he had learned to except death as a fact of life that he realized love had fallen into his top reasons. What was it love for? Love of life? Love of his friends and family? It was most likely the latter; material things meant little to Kurosaki Ichigo when those he cared for were all he felt he needed. He loved them all as if they were his family, holding a close bond that had been forged in blood over their heroic escapades of the past years.

But for most of his time alive after his mother had passed away, Ichigo never felt love as he had before. Warmth was a foreign feeling to him, and his face soon forgot how to form a smile. It was as if his entire life had been ripped out of his body, leaving nothing but the empty shell to carry on with the grievous tasks he was charged with after his mother's passing. Tasks such as cleaning out his mother's belongings, putting all her clothes and personal items into storage until the emotional wounds had healed enough to where they could be looked at again.

Ichigo learned to live with being alone. It was an aspect of his life that, after his mother died, he knew he'd have to live with. He isolated himself from everyone, much rather drowning in the emotional flood that the devastating loss had left behind. His entire world was crumbling out from underneath him in an almost stagnant fashion. Small chunks and pieces of his sanity would crumble under his feet and fall into the black abyss that his mind was turning into. Of course he had his family, his two kid sisters and his eccentric father, which was the only reason he didn't let himself fall over the edge that was creeping closer to him.

What was strange was how his brushes with insanity didn't show in the aspects of his life. He remained calm and in control of his emotions, his face completely impassive with a scowl that seemed to have been branded onto it. But it was how incredibly sane that he seemed, and that he believed he was, that made people just guess him to be a bitter teenager, not a broken human who had suffered devastating losses and stood on the fine line of sanity and insanity. He told himself every morning when he woke and walked into the bathroom, staring at the face he could hardly believe was his, _You are sane; there is nothing wrong with you. This is perfectly normal._

It was that self-encouragement, that strand of hope he had been hanging onto for so long, that helped his world to begin and rebuild itself. He found himself beginning to enjoy life's little pleasures, not as near as much as he used to, but to the point where he knew his sanity was not in danger of being lost any longer. But the damage had already been done; he rarely smiled, and found little to laugh whole-heartedly at. The scowl had become something he found he couldn't remove, no matter how hard he tried to. He could look at Death and sneer in disgust at it for taking his mother.

But it wasn't until one night some few years ago when the hole that his mother's passing had left began to refill itself. He had gone to bed after having his usual scuffle with his father, far too annoyed with the day's event to deal with the man. A raven-haired girl had walked through his wall and onto his desk, completely paying no heed to the angered teen on his bed. He had stood and kicked her in the back of the head, pointing at her and shouting rude comments and accusations in the process. A terrible start for any type of relationship; but Ichigo had never planned on having any sort of relationship with the stranger. He simply wanted her out of his room.

An exchange of rude and blunt words were passed between the two. The stranger had been prattling on about hollows, shinigami, and some place called the Soul Society, which Ichigo had no intention of believing anything about. He had decided that he hated this shinigami, or whatever she chose to call herself, and didn't want anything to do with her. But then she had gone and saved his life, for no reason at all. For the years following that day, he had asked her and himself why she had done that, and he still didn't know why.

_Give me that blade, shinigami, _He had ordered, standing over her wounded, bloodied body, his hand outstretched for the sword.

_My name isn't 'shinigami', _She had corrected defiantly, pointing the blade at the teen's chest. _It's Kuchiki Rukia._

He had smirked, letting his fingers wrap around the cool steel of the blade. He let the tip barely touch his chest before replying, _Name's Kurosaki Ichigo. Nice to meet ya._

And when he entered the Soul Society and stormed into the Seireitei with his band of closely-knit comrades, he found that Death was breathing down his neck the entirety of the time he was there. He didn't care if he had to pay for the debt he owed Rukia with every once of blood in his aching body; he would rescue her and take her as far away from that place as he could. He gave blood for every inch of ground he took, not running from anything that stood in his path. He would crush anything and everything that posed a threat, and he would do it without regret.

_I'm not thanking you, idiot, _Was what Kuchiki Rukia had said when he had rescued her from certain death. He had expected her to say something like that, and he simply grinned and nodded, not expecting any kind of benediction whatsoever from the petite girl. And when he stood against Kuchiki Byakuya and Sosuke Aizen, he saw that Death was sneering at him, mocking him in the form of stronger and more skilled enemies. But he didn't care; he would cut them all down, and smirk triumphantly at Death as he took Rukia and all of his friends that had joined him and leave, praying that he would never have to return.

Certainly, Kurosaki Ichigo and Kuchiki Rukia still argued over the most trivial of matters after their return to the world of the living. Sometimes they had to laugh at their stupidity for even bothering to fight over the simplest of things. It always played out the same each time they argued; one of them would get pissed at the other, then they would start arguing. They would shout and flail around, occasionally they would throw inanimate objects at each other, then they would grow really quiet and glare at each other, and then would go back to their previous activities. It was like a bizarre ritual that they both felt they must engage in to remain normal. It always died down before any one of them could say something that they knew they'd regret.

Until one dreary, rainy night where one of their arguments had gotten out of hand. It had been over something so frivolous that neither of them had expected a fight to form from it. They shouted and waved their arms in the air, pushing into the other's personal space and screaming into their faces. Without thinking, Rukia had turned to Ichigo and yelled about how she wished her brother had killed him back when she had been taken to the Soul Society for her impending execution. He retorted with how he was sorry that he had ever wasted his time with rescuing her, before storming out of the house and into the merciless rainstorm. For the first time in his life, he had wished to die. He shouted at death, provoking it to step forward and claim his life right where he stood.

Rukia only stood in place, in complete and total awe of what she had just said. God knew she hadn't meant a word of it; if Ichigo had died, she would have been torn apart up to the day of her execution. He had shed blood for her, and had almost given his life on several occasions, and she knew she had no right to speak to him the manner that she had. So she ran into the storm, calling out his name in a desperate attempt to receive an answer. She ran through the blinding rain, not able to tell what direction she was going. She could see his figure in the haze, his body completely motionless.

She ran in front of him, her hands pushing against his shoulders. He didn't push back against her or move her out of the way as she had predicted; he simply looked down at her with impassive eyes, his face drained of all emotion. He remained stationary as their eyes were locked together, both trying to read the other's expression to decide what to do. Neither moved for the longest time, and they almost ceased breathing altogether.

Over and over, Rukia said that she was sorry, that she hadn't meant a word of what she had said. She had his forearms locked in a grip that she hoped he wouldn't be able to break free of, but knew that he could. She watched as his eyes scanned her face and body, searching for the honesty that she prayed he could detect. He looked away, at something on the ground, and looked back at her, his eyes pained and saddened. _You said you wished that I had died._

It broke her heart into thousands of pieces just hearing the words repeated. She clung to his soaking-wet body, shaking her head vigorously as the rain fell around them. She denied ever wishing that, telling him that it was a stupid thing to say and that she wished more than anything that she could take it back. She really hadn't meant any of it, and didn't mind the reply that he had given her because she knew she had deserved it. His eyes remained suspicious, the emotional wound of her stinging words still too fresh and deep for any words to dull the pain.

Then, without even thinking, she grabbed hold of his shirt collar and pulled his head down to hers, firmly pressing their lips together. Ichigo couldn't have moved away even if he had wanted to; his muscles were frozen and unmoving, his breathing even ceasing as he tried to decide on what course of action to pursue. Swallowing, his let himself relax and return the kiss, his stomach twisting and turning and flipping around to the point where he thought he was going to burst. He couldn't remember hearing anything other than the rapid beating of his heart ringing in his ears.

He remembered stumbling in the mud underneath their feet, yelping in surprise as his foot slipped out from underneath him. He remembered falling backwards and into the deep puddle, the dark brown mud nearly covering the both of them. He remembered staring into Rukia's eyes for the longest time, before they both began laughing loudly, not caring that they were completely drenched and covered in mud. He remembered how they had rolled around in the mud, throwing handfuls at each other until they were both covered in it.

Ichigo had contracted a cold from the ordeal, grumbling half-heartedly when Rukia didn't even have a runny nose. But everything seemed different, better. He felt whole and complete every time he looked at her, like there had never been any parts of his heart that had been ripped out. He could feel shocks of electricity every time he touched her, even if it was the unintentional brush of shoulders. He found that he could smile again, much to his amazement, and that he could enjoy almost everything in his life.

He felt like Death couldn't touch him, like the kiss had formed an impenetrable barrier around his soul that nothing except Rukia could break through. He felt like his life would never end, that it would keep rolling on and on. After the kiss, the skies of his inner world had cleared and clouds were driven away. He loved the feeling of being complete, a sensation he had forgotten about long ago. Things seemed simpler to him now, not as dark and complicated as they had once been.

He relished every moment he was able to spend with her, and made every second count. When he was with her, everything felt right; there were no words that could describe how he felt when he was around her, or even simply thinking about her. When he kissed her and held her tightly against his chest, there was nothing in the world except for them. There were no shinigami, no hollows, and no arrancar; there was just them, and nothing could ever harm them.

He felt complete and at peace with everything. For him, there was no pain and suffering, no agony and misery that he had been immersed in so long ago. He looked forward to going to bed and holding Rukia against his body, her shape molding perfectly to his. He looked forward to waking up and seeing her sleeping peacefully next to him, curled up in his protective embrace.

But when he found that on some nights he wasn't able to find sleep, he would look down at the girl resting in his arms and thank every god he could think of that she had made the first move, or else one probably wouldn't have been made at all. He knew he had feelings for her since rescuing her from the Soul Society; he realized this when he couldn't go through class without fighting the urge to reach out his hand and brush his fingertips against her soft face. But her kiss had awakened feelings he had never realized that he had, and he was eternally grateful that it did.

And he lived for months like that, believing that everything was perfect and that Death was nothing compared to him, to them. That was his mindset during everything he did with her. It wasn't what he was consciously thinking about, but more of a subconscious reassurance that calmed him and allowed him to enjoy himself. And it wasn't until he looked down at her after they had made love as they had so many times before when he realized that his mindset was nothing more than a filthy lie he had created. A lie spawning from the fear of loosing all that he had left. A false reassurance he had made up to protect himself.

He realized that they were no safer from dying than they were before. _He _wasn't, anyways; he'd do everything in his power to keep Rukia as far from harm's way as he could. He realized that it was just another heartbreak waiting to happen, and he nearly cried just thinking about it. He knew that he was a dangerous hazard in the girl's life, and that with each second she stayed with him, she was endangering her own life, and Ichigo would never forgive himself if that happened.

So that's what he told her; he tried his hardest to convince her to leave him, to get as far away from him as possible and to never spare him a second thought. He tried everything; from being gentle and kind about it to being a downright insensitive hard-ass. But nothing worked. He tried to distance himself, to become someone he knew that she wouldn't love. It ripped him apart, not responding to her touch, her kisses, or her soft words of affection. But she saw through all of his acts, and pulled him back to his real, stubborn, scowling self, the one that she had fallen in love with.

She had told him that, no matter how far away from him she was, she would always be in as much danger as she was being right next to him. It gave him very little consolation, but it was enough for him to drop the act he had been putting on and mellow back into his original self. But he was never as care free, or careless, as he had been since the kiss. He was still Kurosaki Ichigo; brash, stubborn, scowling shinigami who still, after years of loss and agony, managed to smile from time to time.

Of course, he took several precautions. He always locked the doors and windows before they went to bed. He made sure that, whenever possible, his zanpaku-to was within reaching distance, in case of a very possible ambush. He almost always wore his badge, wanting to make sure that he could turn into a shinigami whenever necessary. He would always lay awake for at least two hours after going to bed, constantly on the look out for any kind of threat or danger.

But he felt that his precautions were no where near enough to protect the both of them. He had been so concentrated on protecting Rukia and making sure no harm befell her, he rarely ever paid any attention to his own defense. It had truly never been any trouble, until that rainy June night sometime shortly after his birthday when he threw himself in front of a dying hollow's attack that had been meant for her. He didn't know how the hollow had been killed after that, because all he could remember was lying in a puddle of thick blood with the rain falling around them. All he could remember was Rukia laying his head in her lap, pleading with him to stay awake and keep his eyes open.

He had looked up at her, his body refusing to work as he tried to lift his arm. With some effort, he had managed to weakly cup her face with his bloodied hand, using the rough pad of his thumb to wipe away the tears that were falling down her face. He remembered feeling a twang of guilt shoot through his aching heart as she begged him not to leave her. _I'm not leaving_, he had stated before coughing violently, blood and vomit bubbling up in his throat. _I'll…I'll always be with you._

He could feel every ounce of strength slipping away from his body as all feeling began to leave his arms and legs. He could remember her bending down and placing soft kisses on his face, murmuring reassuring words into his skin. _I'm leaving, but,_ he had only managed to whisper the words, his lungs having felt like they were on fire from the gaping wound in his chest, _I want you…to promise me something._

He remembered her nodding, her forehead pressed against his, whispering that she would honor whatever last wishes he had. _Promise me that you'll keep on living and die many, many years from now, warm in your bed. And when you pass on, I promise that I'll be there to take you over._ A strangled cough had forced blood up from his throat, a small tendril trickling out from the corner of his mouth.

A shudder had shaken his body as he felt his surroundings face away to nothing, the only thing clearly visible being Rukia. He had locked his dreary amber eyes with hers before making a firm promise, _I'll always be watching over you. Remember that, because when you need me, I'll be there with you. I'll hold you and kiss you as if I were alive, and you'll feel it. Don't forget that._ And he felt everything slip away when she bent down and kissed him, peace filling his soul before Death pulled it from his body.

His funeral had been dreary at best, everyone except for a few of the men crying in remembrance. There wasn't a person who had a negative memory of the deceased man, everyone only recalling the times when he showed a softer side of himself that very few knew existed. When they had lowered his body into the rectangle-shaped hole next to his mother's tombstone, Rukia had almost yelled at them to pull his casket back up. She had wanted to see his face one last time, and press her lips to his once more before they buried him.

Years went by, and even during storms and intense weather Rukia would walk to his grave on the fifteenth of June to wish him a happy birthday, and that she remembered him everyday. When she looked at the pictures of him that she had kept, she would often times cry, but her tears would disappear when she would faintly feel a pair of arms wrap around her and Ichigo's familiar scent would surround her. When she went to bed, she would almost always feel a body press against her own and his scent would fill the air, signifying that he was keeping his promise, that he hadn't left her.

She almost couldn't remember how many decades had passed since he had died protecting her. Time went by slower than it had when he had been alive, but she would always know that he was still with her when his scent would engulf her and she could feel his warm gaze following her movements. Occasionally, when she was in bed, she would feel the mattress shift as if he were sitting on the edge, watching her, and would feel his fingertips run along her face, trailing over her lips.

She found that she had no reason to be sad, because he was keeping his promise and had stayed with her, watching over her and keeping her safe. And one night, she saw him standing next to her bed, a smile she had rarely seen him wear etched across his youthful face. _It's time to go_, he had whispered into her ear, his hot breath ticking the side of her face. He had reached his hand out and she had taken it, the calluses and scars the same as they had been the day he had died. He had given her hand a light tug, and she was out of her body, her soul looking as it had years ago when she had fallen in love with him. She hugged him, and had whispered against his shirt-clad chest, _Thank you for keeping your promise._

* * *

_If that confused you, don't feel bad; I'm a little unsure as to how people are going to interpret this, myself. It's supposed to be a mix between Ichigo's perception of Death, and how he fell in love with Rukia. I made it in a sort of sequence-of-events type thing so it would be easier to stay on track if anyone was confused. The whole thing after his funeral was basically his spirit watching over Rukia and taking her to wherever they're supposed to go after they die, blah-blah-blah, and the end._

_Now, I know ay least one person is thinking about asking this question: "If Ichigo was spirit, wouldn't Rukia be able to see him?" I really didn't think about coming up with an answer to that one. I was more concerned with getting it done by the deadline than checking for a whole lot of inaccuracies. But since (I'm assuming) you're all anime fans and have creative imaginations, you can use them and see what I mean._

_-BleachBox Romance_


	4. Falling Inside The Black

_I thought it would be interesting to try and write in a different tense; so, I tried it. I'll try and update my other stuff before I leave (Saturday or Sunday), but I can't really promise anything. I used a little bit of Skillet's "Falling Inside The Black", in case anyone finds any interest in the lyrics. Happy Reading!_

* * *

_You are my source of strength,  
I've traded everything  
That I love for this one thing  
Stranded in the offering.  
Don't leave me here like this  
Can't hear me scream from the abyss.  
And now I wish for you my desire,_

* * *

He knows he looks sick, and she probably knows it, too. He tries to hide it, to suppress the bloodlust his inner demon is educing. It bubbles up inside of him from deepest and darkest pit of his heart and fills him with so much sickness and rage that he threatens to burst. He even feels sick, like he is about to vomit when there is not an ounce of food within his stomach. His eyes have watered, blurring his already questionable vision which has been obscured by the blackness of his room. He runs his sweaty hand over his damp forehead and silently prays that the moonlight is not making the perspiration visible enough for her to see it.

"Ichigo?" She asks quietly, her voice showing the concern she possesses for the man. Her violet eyes study his outstretched body, watching as he swallows the thick saliva that has built up within his sore throat. She watches his body shift on the mattress, the metal springs creaking under his weight.

He ignores her, fearing that his voice would tip the girl off as to what is going on within his mind. He fights hard and furiously to keep his demon away from taking control of his body, and rolls over on the bed, turning away from her and kicking the sheets off of his body. More sweat has formed on his brow, the small droplets running across his face and onto his bare neck and chest. He moistens his parched lips and gives a shaky sigh, the hand resting under his head clutching his skull firmly.

She sees the movement and recognizes that he doesn't want her to see the pained expression and sweat on his face. She watches as the veins and tendons in his hand becomes more prominent as he grips his head, his other hand clawing into the mattress. She reaches out and touches the back of his shoulder, pulling away when his body twitches from the contact. She quickly becomes frightened that he is in intense pain, and maybe even dying. "Ichigo." It comes out as more of a firm statement than an inquiry of his health. She lightly grips his shoulder, not letting go when he moves.

He wants to speak out, to yell at her to run as far from him as she can, but his mouth remains shut. He groans quietly, his body curling up as waves of pain course through his weakening form. He's not quite sure how much longer he can hold out against the need to kill that is welling up from within him. He manages to open his mouth, a raspy and enraged growl floating from his parted lips. He can tell that he just frightened her; it was a sound he had never made before, and was certain up until that moment that no human could make that noise.

He feels her run a hand through his hair, which gives him some sense of comfort, but does little to suppress the darkness that is threatening to overtake him. He can feel the mattress shift as she sits down beside him, smoothing his hair back from his face, watching as his expression changes from agony to misery and back to agony. He's not sure whether her touch is helping him or driving him all the more closer to insanity. He turns when she pulls his shoulder back towards her, and looks up at her with helpless amber eyes.

She looks at him with slight shock and obvious concern, caressing his face with the back of her hand while asking, "What's wrong, Ichigo?" Her question receives no reply other than a violent shudder and a sigh. She orders quietly, but firmly, "Ichigo, tell me what's wrong."

He wants to answer her, and manages to open his mouth and choke out, "G-Get…away."

She looks at him, fear only showing for the briefest of nanoseconds before pulling his head and upper torso into her lap, trying to calm him as his body becomes restless. He looks up at her, as if he is pleading for help, and shakes his head weakly. He knows that she is in danger by being this close to him, and rasps, "It…it's _coming_." The last word comes out strained, as if he is fighting to speak it.

"Your hollow?" She asks, knowing that it's probably what he is speaking of, but hoping that he is meaning something less dangerous. She shushes him as he nods and moans painfully, writhing around on the bed, and begins to whisper calming and soft words into his ear. His convulsions begin to settle, but only slightly and momentarily, as a new surge of murderous intent from his hollow begins to cloud his senses, smothering his sanity into dust. She knows as well as he does that by staying by him, she is endangering her own well being, but if no one is there to restrain him if his hollow breaks free, he would harm many other people.

He feels conflicting emotions as the battle within his mind rages on; he feels comforted and safe with Rukia next to him, calming his restless body. But he also feels the constant and forceful harassment of his antagonist, which is beginning to get the better of him. He can tell that he is beyond any help that she can offer him, and manages to gasp out through agonizing spasms of pain, "_Get_…_out_…_now_." He doesn't mean for it to be as harsh and threatening as it ends up sounding, but hopes that it will be enough to push her away.

"Ichigo, calm down," She orders, running her fingers though his damp hair soothingly, "This is all in your head; just calm down and think, and you'll win." He tries his best to calm himself, to restrain his limbs and rapid breathing, but his self control is proving to be inadequate in winning the loosing battle. He tries to sit up, and manages to do so, despite her attempt to hold him down. He clutches his head with both of his hands, stumbling across the room and leaning up against the wall. For the first time in what seems like forever, he wishes that his father were there. He might know some way to help him, but since he and his two twin sisters are gone, he is not expecting anything.

Ichigo finds that it has become very difficult to breathe, and fears that he might suffocate if he is not able to control himself soon. He coughs violently, one of his hands gripping his chest as saliva drips from his mouth and his eyes become watered. His other hand steadies himself as it presses against the wall, and he slowly leans his body against it. He wants desperately to scream, to cry out in pain and anguish and then maybe, just maybe, it would go away. But he knows that by screaming, he would be giving his hollow the satisfaction it is searching for, and he would be dammed if he even gives him the slightest of yelps.

Rukia watches his movements carefully, moving cautiously towards him as he shakes and shudders and gives out small gasps in between the waves of shocking pain. She moves around and approaches him from the front, making sure he can see her, and stops where she is just out of his reach. She speaks his name in a questioning manner, as if she is asking what is happening within his mind. She becomes apprehensive when he does not even groan in pain, but inches closer to his body nonetheless. She reaches out, moving to see if he is even still conscious, but quickly pulls back when she feels a repulsive aura surrounding his body.

He can feel his resolve, or what is left of it, crumbling as his hollow smirks and pushes through almost effortlessly. He can feel himself loosing control of the tips of his fingers, then his hands, then his arms. He wants to yell out at her to run away, but he, as he had before, finds himself unable to speak. His mouth opens, but all that leaves are his pained gasps. He can hear his mind chanting, _Get her out, get her out, get her out_. Now he realizes that it is him snapping at himself, and his inner voice begins screaming, yelling in a deafening tone, _Get her the hell out! Get her out NOW!_

She watches as his breathing patterns change, from slow and calmed back to rapid and uneven. Her eyes watch the chords of muscle along his bare chest and arms begin twitch under the stress of some unseen weight. She realizes that if she simply stands and does nothing, than his hollow will surely break free. She can see that they are both on the surface, fighting for the control of his body. She watches as he slowly raises his head and is shocked by the look in his eyes. The color of his eyes changes sporadically from bright yellow and back to amber, his teeth clenched together in strain. As she moves towards him, he yells out in a voice that holds pain and rage, "Get out! Run, now!"

She seriously considers leaving, but stands defiantly and shakes her head. She watches his mouth curl back into a snarl that terrifies her to the core, but does not move her. He rasps, his voice changing from his hollow's and back to his own. "You…you don't _understand_." He clenches his eyes shut, his hands gripping his skull tightly enough that he fears it will be crushed; but it doesn't matter to him, and he coughs out, "He's trying to _kill you_."

He can hear a sickening voice whisper in his ear, the hot breath of his hollow making his skin crawl. _"Go on, King."_ The hollow directs, his voice having a rather mocking edge to it. _"Kill her. Rip her apart." _Ichigo can see what his hollow is thinking, and shudders as visions of him stabbing and disemboweling the girl standing in front of him flash across his mind. _"You know you want to; you're a killer at heart. Why, you even killed your own mother."_

"No." Ichigo gasps out, his breath catching in his throat as it feels like he is being continuously kicked in the head. "I-I didn't-"

"_Yes." _His hollow seems to almost hiss as he finds his psychological mind games beginning to weaken his king's defenses. _"You killed her. You had her blood all over your body, and you loved it. It felt so good, didn't it? It was slick and red, and it tasted wonderful."_

He remembers how her blood had gotten all over his body when she had protected him, even on his face and lips, and remembers how bad it had tasted. He had spit it out, retching, vomiting on the blood-soaked ground. "It…_no_." He feels like he may actually vomit all over his feet, and uses one of his arms to wrap around his abdomen.

"_And just imagine," _The hollow pauses, grinning madly as he watches what he has turned his king in to, and continues, _"Just imagine how good Rukia's blood will taste, how good it will feel. You know you want to kill her." _His hollow accuses, dealing the final blows that he knows will leave his king emotionally and physically incapable. _"You want to rip her throat out with your bare hands."_

"No, no, no," He whispers angrily, pressing his full weight against the wall as his sanity slowly slips away. He can feel that he's loosing control, that whatever his hollow wants to do, he can.

"_Kill her." _The hollow orders boldly.

"No, no, no, no, no, NO!" Ichigo roars, tilting his head towards the ceiling as he feels all control of his body become lost. He looks at Rukia, who is startled by the enraged and mentally twisted look in his now glowing yellow eyes. He yells wildly before his hollow forces his body to lunge towards hers, "Leave her alone, _you son of a bitch!" _His body shoves her against the wall and his hand closes around her throat. He can feel her fingers grab onto his hand, and can see her frightened eyes boring into his. "I won't do it! Dammit, no! Don't you touch her!"

Then everything stops; he blinks, his eyes back to normal, and looks at her frightened body as she stares helplessly up at him. "Oh…oh god." He gasps, quickly pulling his hand off of her neck and looking at her with wide eyes. She looks back at him, still frightened that he- no, his hollow- might attack her. "Oh…oh, oh Christ. I…I…" He can't believe that he just allowed his hollow to take control of his body and try and harm Rukia. He doesn't want her to see him, and he doesn't want to see the terrified look in her violet eyes that he knows he caused. "I…god, I'm so sorry."

She soon realizes that the threat has passed, and slowly approaches the quivering man. She is taken by surprise when he wraps his arms around her body, his form shaking in a frightened manner. He feels scared and helpless, fearing that his hollow could now come up and control him whenever it pleased him. Rukia can feel his heart crashing against his ribcage, making a very audible beating noise. She realizes that he is probably extremely unstable, both physically and mentally, and pulls them both down so that they're sitting on the floor. She runs a hand through his hair, watching as his eyes feverishly dart around the room. "Ichigo, you're alright. You're fine; he's gone."

He looks at her, and guilt seems to consume him as thoughts about what he had just done whirls around inside of his head. He had been so close to killing her, to possibly choke her or snap her neck. He pulls away, fearing that the threat is not yet gone, that his hollow may burst out and kill her for real. He looks down at his hands with wide eyes, as if he has murdered someone and their blood was dripping from his fingers, and speaks in a tone as frightened and shocked as his expression, "I…I…Christ, I'm so _sorry_."

She watches sympathetically as he draws his knees up to his chest and rests his elbows on them, his hands gripping his head. She gently puts her hand on his arm in an affectionate manner before sliding around to his other shoulder, pulling his body against hers. "I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry." He murmurs over and over again, staring at the wooden floorboards. He runs a hand through his hair and leans back against the wall. "I…I just tried to _kill you_." It is as if the words make him undergo some sort of an epiphany, and he backs into the dark corner between his desk and the wall, his breathing heavy and ragged.

She sighs quietly and scoots next to him, holding him in place when one of her arms wraps around his bare torso. He tries to move, and for a moment resembles a frightened dog being trapped in a corner. It's tight, but comfortable when they adjust and Rukia manages to get Ichigo to sit still and look at her. His eyes are no longer as wide as they had been, but he still has the same expression that speaks volumes about what he is feeling. He swallows, words forming in his head but not managing to leave him mouth. "I…I'm sorry." He says for probably the tenth time in the past minute.

Her gaze meets his, and she can tell how sorry he truly is. She reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, the motion seeming to calm him down to some extent. He folds his arms over his chest and tucks his hands beneath his underarms, his head rolling back and hitting the wall. "It wasn't you," she tells him, her fingers still rubbing the back of his neck, "It was your _hollow_." He tries his best to change his expression, but she can tell that her statement did not console him.

"It was my body." He offers as an excuse from the truth. He still believes that it was just as much him as it was his hollow. "I couldn't stop him. What-" he coughs lightly, his lungs finally settling down and allowing him to breathe normally, "What good am I if I can't even keep him under control? I…he almost killed you."

She is thankful that he realizes that his hollow had all of the blame before replying softly, "Everything's fine, Ichigo. He didn't hurt me; he only scared me." She watches his eyes dart around, his head sinking forward and drooping miserably. He looks like he's arguing with himself on what to say, and he only sighs deeply, his composure almost completely restored. His arm reaches over and wraps around her waist, his head resting on top of hers He sighs deeply, his breath tickling her ear and neck.

"I'm sorry. I really, really am." He whispers, his voice signaling how exhausted he is, and how much he just wants to go to sleep and forget about what has just happened. He holds her close, keeping her in a gentle embrace, afraid that he might unintentionally hurt her if he squeezes her too tight. He watches as she drifts off, finding consolation in the fact that he has regained his composure, and signals that she is asleep with her even breathing and motionless body. Trying his best not to wake her, he picks her up and lays her down on his bed, sitting down next to her.

Another sigh escapes his lips as he begins to feel drowsy, and he lays down next to her, pulling the sheets he had kicked off over her small body. He feels content just watching her sleep, but checks himself to make sure that his hollow is perfectly under control. Finding that his demon poses no current threat, he uses the back of his hand to gently caress her face. He gives a small smile when her hand closes around his, her body shifting closer to his lean frame. He is still apprehensive about falling asleep, but decides that he would be doing his stamina more harm than good by not getting any rest. And just as he doses off, he can faintly hear his hollow snickering at him, and decides that the risk would be greater if he lets his guard down by going to sleep.

* * *

_Falling in the black,  
Slipping through the cracks,  
Falling to the depths, can I ever go back?  
Dreaming of the way it used to be,  
Can you hear me?  
Falling in the black,  
Slipping through the cracks,  
Falling to the depths, can I ever go back?  
Falling inside the black,  
Falling inside falling inside the black. _

* * *


	5. Just The Girl

_Just started content ratings for stories. If you're concerned about what might be in the one shots, then look at the content and you're all right with what's in it, then read on! _

_Alright, before we start, I need to explain the content ratings. All stories range from G to PG-13, with maybe a soft R thrown in here or there. Content warnings will be placed at the beginnings of each chapter so you all know what to expect. About half of the stories will be songfics, and disclaimers will be dished out at the beginning of each chapter after the content warnings._

_Content for Just The Girl: Language_

_Song: Just The Girl_

_Artist: Click Five_

_Anime: Bleach _

_None of these are mine!_

* * *

_She's cold and she's cruel  
But she knows what she's doin'.  
She pushed me in the pool  
At our last school reunion.  
She laughs at my dreams  
But I dream about her laughter.  
Strange as it seems,  
She's the one I'm after._

* * *

Ichigo growled, rolling over in his bed. Why couldn't he get to sleep? It was two in the morning, for God's sake! He was sleepy, exhausted, in fact, but even when he pulled the covers over his head and shut his eyes, sleep could not seem to find him. His eyelids drooped hopelessly over his amber eyes, and he let out a long, audible yawn. Using a weak hand, he groggily rubbed his eyes, and then turned on his side so he was facing his closet. He raised his head briefly as he realized that the closet door was open, but then quickly shook his head._ Ah, what the hell am I doing, watching Rukia sleep?_

Groaning, Ichigo diverted his eyes from the sleeping girl in his closet to the ceiling, then to his desk, then back to his closet. His eyes transfixed on Rukia for a long moment, then he looked at the calendar on the far side of his room. January 14. The date instantly seemed to click inside Ichigo's head as he opened the drawer to his nightstand. Today was Rukia's birthday, which would make her…well, Ichigo didn't know how to really answer how old she would be, but the main fact was that it was her birthday.

Digging around in the drawer, he pulled out a small stuffed Chappy plushy with a gift tag attached to it and stared at it for a moment with a questioning glare. Now, it was a known fact, in both the realm of the living and in the Soul Society, that Rukia was obsessed with Chappy the rabbit. Ichigo had briefly touched on the subject of the obsession when he had been talking with Renji. He had asked the older shinigami what kind of obsessed Rukia truly was with Chappy, and the man's reply had been,_ "She's OCD kind of obsessed."  
_

OCD obsessed was exactly right. Ichigo could clearly remember their "movie night" where he had, reluctantly, allowed the raven haired shinigami to choose the movie. Much to his horror, the movie had been about Chappy. Or when he had insulted the rabbit by pure instinct, which had resulted in a swift (and rather painful) kick to his groin. That one occurrence had been a week ago, and that area between his legs was still slightly sore._"_

_God, woman! What the hell's your damage?!" Ichigo yelled as he hit the dirt, hands protecting his wounded groin. "All I did was say that that damned rabbit was stupid, you psycho!"_

But, maybe in the whole scheme of things, having to deal with an obsessive crazy woman wasn't all too bad. It was painful, mind you, very much so, but then, as the saying goes, no pain no gain. Although, Ichigo failed to see what he was gaining by undergoing extreme daily pulses of pain. But, much to his dismay, he could never stay mad at Rukia for more than thirty minutes. Shaking his head vigorously, he dismissed the thoughts._ What're ya doing, Kurosaki? You're making it sound like you actually 'like' her._ Ichigo quietly scolded himself.

He propped his head up on the open palm of his hand and sighed, blinking. What the hell was wrong with him? Ichigo shuddered as he remembered his father telling him that "strange things" would start happening once he hit puberty, which had seriously grossed him out, but he had never really taken him seriously. Did these "weird things" involve staying up until all hours of the night looking a girl that just happened to live in his closet? Or tuning out your teacher for half an hour because you couldn't advert your eyes from that certain girl? Or by spending three weeks searching for a birthday present for that certain girl which would only encourage her obsession with Chappy the rabbit?

With a sigh, Ichigo realized that the truth was unavoidable. He did like her, no,_ loved_ her. But, the one question that plagued his mind constantly was this: Did she love him? With girls like Rukia, who masked their emotions irregularly well, it was difficult to tell. If a girl liked a boy, they would normally flirt or send little hints (Renji once referred to it as "making a pass") that they had a "thing" for that certain boy. Rukia…kicked. Hard.

Ichigo wasn't one to go falling head over heels for a girl like some love-sick moron going after a hot chick he didn't have a chance in hell to get. He was far to modest (or just full of pride; no one ever knew) to act like a fool. Or at least like too much of one. A little foolishness never really hurt anyone. Unless it was foolishness that involved Rukia. Then it would either hurt in the groin or the shin. Like the time Rukia asked him "the question"._"_

_Ichigo?" Rukia asked, peeking over the orange-haired teen's shoulder. _

_I__chigo, who had been sitting at his desk doing his homework, had growled in an agitated voice, "Can't this wait, Rukia?"_

_"Aw, c'mon, Ichigo!" Rukia pouted childishly, sticking out her bottom lip. "I need to know. I saw a big lady at the store talking about it."_

_"What the hell kind of question would have to do with that?" _

_"Well, I asked Renji the question, but he just blushed and told me to ask you." The raven-haired shinigami leaned forward against the backrest of Ichigo's chair, looking curiously at his homework, her chin resting on his shoulder._

_"Alright. Shoot." Ichigo took a drink of his soda, leaning his head back to allow the remaining contents to pour down his throat._

* * *

_The way she sees it's me  
On her caller ID,  
She won't pick up the phone  
She'd rather be alone.  
But I can't give up just yet,  
Cause every word she's ever said  
Is still ringin' in my head,  
Still ringin' in my head._

* * *

_"Where do babies come from?"_

_Ichigo spit his mouthful of soda out onto the desk _( and, regretfully, his homework)_ and shot up out of his chair, turning to face the petite girl. "Wh-What the hell kind of a question is that?! You seriously don't know where babies come from?!"_

_"Geez, it's just a stupid question. No need to get all nuts about it." Rukia huffed, looking at Ichigo's shocked expression. "Are you gonna answer the question, or do I need to ask your father?"_

_The thought of what his dad would tell Rukia sent disgusting shivers up and down Ichigo's spine. He calmly wiped the soda off of his mouth with the back of his hand before stuttering ,"W-well…you see, uh…a, uh, a…stork," Ichigo began, nervous perspiration dotting his forehead. "A stork…it, uh,…it takes the baby to its parents. There, happy now?" The agitated teen asked, inching towards the doorway, AKA his escape._

_"But how come when ladies say that they're having a baby, their stomachs are all big and puffy?" Rukia asked curiously, sitting down on the edge of Ichigo's bed.  
_

_"Well, uh…you see, er…there's a door," Ichigo knew that this was probably going to be the dumbest explanation anyone ever had on where babies come from. "There's a door in the girl's stomach that the stork puts the baby in when the guy and the girl are ready to have it."_

_Rukia looked up at the ceiling and pondered on Ichigo's explanation. An idea struck her, and she looked back at Ichigo as he was about to walk out the door. "Ichigo?"_

_Cursing at how his escape plan had been so quickly foiled, Ichigo looked back at the naive girl sitting on his bed. "What is it, Rukia?"_

_"Do you think a stork will bring a baby for you and me?"_

That had been the most embarrassing thing anyone had ever said to him. Ever. Ichigo was still blushing about it five weeks after it had happened. He was quite sure he had broke several Olympic sprint records that day while running out of his house and taking refuge in Urahara's store for at least three hours. And three hours with Renji, who had been living there at the time, was three hours realizing what hell feels like. And it probably didn't help that Rukia repeated the question that had sent Ichigo into his hiding. The orange-haired teen only replied with the classic, "I don't know."

Ichigo sighed again, staring shrewdly at the small bunny plushy. Three weeks of searching through Karakura and neighboring cities and forty dollars worth of gas money had been the cost of finding Rukia's present. And the sixty dollars for the tow truck that had to drag his car through the slush and snow after it had broken down. Christ Almighty, had he been pissed.

This had really been the only time Ichigo had ever gotten anything for Rukia's birthday. In the past, he might have said "happy birthday" as an off-handed comment, something he had forgotten about until that moment. So what made this birthday special? What had possessed Ichigo to go to all that trouble just to get a plushy for a moody shinigami who kicked his ass on a daily basis that lived in his closet? Truth be told, Ichigo had no clue whatsoever.

Taking a pen off of his desk, Ichigo began writing a message on the gift tag of the plushy._ To: Rukia, From: Ichigo- Don't ruin this, fool. You have no clue what I had to go through to get it._ Feeling that what he had written was sufficient, the teenager looked back at the closet and the person sleeping inside of it. Despite how desperately tired he was, Ichigo felt he could do this all night. Yeah, he really was a big softy as heart, but no one had to know other than himself.

As quietly as possible, Ichigo slid out of the bed and stepping down onto the wooden floor. His legs became tense when his feet made contact with the cold wooden floorboards, causing him to shiver. Slowly, very slowly, he crept across the chilled floor of his room, trying not to make any noise that would wake the sleeping shinigami. Every movement he made was precise, maneuvering around the loose floorboards that he knew creaked. And the cold was making it all the harder to complete his task.

Opening the closet door just a little more, Ichigo smiled at the sleeping girl. He reached down and absentmindedly brushed a few stray hairs out of her face, the backs of his fingers softly caressing her face. Rukia stirred slightly, loosely gripping his hand in her sleep. His smile growing wider, Ichigo gently lifted her arm and placed the Chappy plushy under it. He removed his hand from her grip and watched as she snuggled under the covers, hugging the stuffed object tightly. He placed his hand on her head and whispered, "Happy Birthday, fool."

* * *

_Cause she's bittersweet,  
She knocks me off of my feet.  
And I can't help myself,  
I don't want anyone else.  
She's a mystery.  
She's too much for me.  
But I keep comin' back for more.  
She's just the girl I'm lookin' for._

* * *

_Hope they weren't too terribly OOC. I wrote this back in the spring, so it might be a little funky compared to what I write now._


	6. Shadows And Regrets

_Sorry. I know, it's been naerly three months since I last posted anything up. Feel free to scold me, because I deserve it. But I've just started 8th grade, and it's been a little hellish at my place. Lots of projects and essays and whatnots. Crazy stuff._

_First, it was going back to school, then it was Anime Weekend Atlanta, which, despite how uberly amazing it was, took out a BIG chunk of my writing time. (I'll go into detail in the next paragraph) Now it's this dumb mandatory sicence fair project, which blows big time._

_My AWA schedule went like so: I got to the hotel at around 10:30 PM, but we couldn't go and get our membership badges because they shut the booth down early. So, we crashed in our room for a little while bafore going to bed._

_I woke up at 6:00 AM and put on my shinigami outfit. I was very pleased with it. I then proceeded to down two cup of coffee, eat breakfast, and drink another cup of coffee. At 10:30, I found myself at the Bleach photoshoot with about thirty other cosplayers. LOTS of fun. Afew hours and another cup of coffee later, I was standing in line to watch the midnight showing of the Bleach movie. At 3:00 AM, I was sleepwalking back to the hotel._

_It had really died down Sunday, and there wasn't much esle to do. We spent most of our time in the Dealer's Room, where they sell all the Anime merchandise. Tip for everyone that enjoys going to cons: always buy the bulk of your stuff on the last day, because that's when they cut the prices down._

_Well, there's my past three months in a nutshell. Hope you enjoy this chapter!_

_Song: Shadows and Regrets_

_Band: Yellowcard_

_Album: Paper Walls (2007)_

_Rating: Teen_

_Content: Language_

_Anime: Bleach_

* * *

_**October 22, 2011**_

_**7:52 PM**_

Out of all the seasons, fall had to have been Kurosaki Ichigo's favorite. That perfect median between the scorching, humid summer and the dry, frigid winter. Things began taking on all new colors, leaves turning red and orange and yellow, the sunsets becoming more marvelous with their hues of pink, orange, and purple. Fall never visibly brightened Ichigo's mood, however; he was still the same scowling, deathly serious individual he had been since his mother's death.

_**I'm back, back in town, and everything has changed. **_

_**I feel, feel let down, the faces stay the same. **_

_**I see, see shadows of who we used to be. **_

_**When I drive, drive so slow though this memory. **_

The fall had always been fun in his early childhood years. Especially with his baby sisters, which kept his mother and father from fretting over him as all parents do with their firstborns. They would carve pumpkins and pick out costumes in preparation for Halloween, one of his favorite holidays. Then, on the 31st of October, he would have to sit and listen to his father preach to him about all the unsavory characters that would be lurking outside on Halloween night, and the proper safety protocol, and other things that, as a young boy, he had never paid any attention to.

But things changed. His mother died, he got older, and fall just never was as special or important to him as it had once been. Rukia had always begged him to take her through the park with Renji during the fall. The routine had quickly become: Say no, get kicked in the groin and/or knee, and limp through park with annoying she-demon shinigami and equally annoying tattooed shinigami.

The last time all three of them had walked through the park during the fall had been four years ago. Four years since she had returned to the Soul Society. Four years since he had last seen her. Four years since she had left him.

He was a college student now, studying to become a surgeon. He was living in a small apartment in downtown Karakura, only having to walk a few blocks to the school's campus. He lived off of instant ramen and bottles of water, the consistent and bland diet being just to his liking. Almost everyone he had gone to high school with was at the university with him, with the exception of Chad, who had gone to a college in Mexico.

Although, today, he didn't feel like simply going home. Just for the hell of it, he thought, he'd take a walk through the park. More of a stress reliever than anything else, he figured. In between the constant calls to exorcize hollows and studying for several exams, he virtually had only five minutes to himself on a week day. A nice walk through the park on a cool October afternoon after the month he had been through? He was game for that.

So, instead of walking back to his apartment, he caught the first bus he came across that was heading for the east side. He sighed, sitting down on one of the many open seats and looking out the window. Four years…Had it really been that long? When he thought about it, it didn't seem as long has it had felt. Sure, it wasn't easy; it had seemed like a part of his life had been torn out, and nothing could fully fill it back to the way it had been.

And it wasn't like it was unexpected; far from it, in fact. It was something that both he and Rukia could see coming years before it happened. For Ichigo, waking up with her still in the house was just one day closer to her being gone. It was something that lifted his spirits and tore him apart all at once. On one hand, she was still there, and that was great; but on the other, that was all the closer she was to finally leaving.

The bus jerked to a stop, pulling him from the reminiscing that he had refused to engage in. He sighed tiredly, standing and walking off the bus and onto the sidewalk lining the expanse of wooded park area next to the river. The sun was going down, lighting the autumn sky in shades of pink, purple, and orange. It was cooler outside than Ichigo had expected, and he cursed himself for not bringing a heavier jacket. Mumbling under his breath, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat and walked down the dirt path into the park.

God, had it really been four years? Not much had happened in those years, but it seemed like only last week he woke up to an empty house. The years had seemed long, certainly, but the emotional wound still hadn't completely healed. It still bled from time to time, mostly on random occasions when he was sitting by himself. His thought would, somehow, switch to the female shinigami who had so abruptly and radically changed his life.

In a way, he had felt betrayed. He had bled for her and with her many times before, and felt that the battles had forged a strong type of blood-bond between them. They had risked their lives for each other countless times, most instances not even having to think about it, and were at a mutual understanding that they would always be there to back each other up. It felt good to have someone like that, someone he felt he could depend on. It had been years since he had even thought about having that kind of friendship with anyone, and it had been refreshing to have that.

But she had left without a word. Not even a note on a memo pad telling him where she had gone to. Well, he knew _where _she had gone, but all the same, it would have been nice for at least some sort of goodbye, even if they couldn't be face-to-face for it. Hell, he didn't even need a goodbye, just _something_, something that proved that his concern as to her whereabouts meant something. It had been a bitter mixture of betrayal and self-loathing, mostly for failing to convince her not to go. But he had been too full of pride, or maybe even himself, to try and get her to stay.

What tore him apart the most, however, was that she hadn't even come back to see him. It was probably partially his fault, anyways; he hadn't even tried to find her after she left, even though he knew it probably wouldn't be too hard. That's what he thought she had wanted at first, to be able to leave without anyone making a big deal about it. So he didn't go after her, didn't try and track her down. Besides, she had always scolded him for being sentimental, which he figured it would be if he spent weeks to try and hunt her down. Or maybe just stupid.

_**When we were only kids, **_

_**And we were best of friends, **_

_**And we hoped for the best, **_

_**And let go of the rest. **_

After a year without any word, however, he thought that maybe it hadn't of been the best thing to do. Maybe he had hurt her. Maybe his display of indifference, even though he felt more for her than any other person on earth, had pushed her away. It was difficult to swallow, even as he walked through the park with the weight having sat on his shoulders for months on end. _He _had pushed her away. _He _had let her go. And he had no one to blame but himself.

_My loss_, he thought to himself as he lit up a cigarette and stuck it in his mouth. Another habit he had picked up after Rukia left. But it had numbed the pain, to a certain extent. And watching the ghostly smoke leave his mouth and drift into the air was enough to hold his attention for a few seconds. A gross habit, he admitted to himself every time he placed one in between his lips, but it was his burden to bear. Just like Rukia's departure.

Ichigo scoffed at himself as he ran a hand through his hair. Pathetic. The past four years had turned him into a completely different person, and it was just then that he realized it. He never use to think about the past unless it was relevant to the current situation, and truth be known, he tried to avoid those situations. And now all he did was sit and stare absentmindedly into the darkening sky, replaying past events in his mind and pondering on all his mistakes. Truly pathetic.

A gust of wind ruffled his hair, snapping him out of his thoughts. Jesus, now this was getting ridiculous. He was actually pondering about himself pondering. He scratched the back of his neck, shaking his head bitterly. That's what happens when your life falls apart and you don't even realize it until you've lost most of the pieces. There was a chunk that was missing, some void in his life that he couldn't fill no matter what he tried to put in it. Strangely enough, the hole had appeared the moment he walked into an empty house four years ago.

Deciding that he had had enough of this foolishness, he turned back and began to walk back down the path. It was getting late, and it was a Friday; he had better things to do than wander aimlessly through a park at sunset. All this had done was reopen old wounds and cause a new bout of guilt to plague his mind. Just a whole new mess of crap that he'd end up hating himself for. He turned around after he had cleared some distance, only turning his head to catch one last glimpse of the place he never should have returned to.

And there she was.

She looked the same as she had four years ago; same height, same shoulder-length hair, same wide violet eyes, same pale skin. The only difference was that it looked like it hurt her to see him again.

He turned around completely, not caring that his expression spoke of nothing but shock and amazement. His cigarette fell from his lips as he spoke almost inaudibly, "Rukia…"

That was all it took; her name leaving his lips was all she needed to know that coming back was a bad idea. He didn't want to see her, and quite frankly, she could understand that. After she left without a word of goodbye, it wouldn't have surprised her if he hated her. She turned around and began to walk quickly in the other direction, the stunned look on his face too much for to the emotionally bear.

"Rukia!" Ichigo called after her, his mind in too much of a frenzy for him to even move his feet. She was _here_. After four years of unbearable solitude, and she had finally shown herself. And he'd be damned if he let her get away again. He began to run down the path after her, shouting her name again with more force, probably more than he should have used.

She could tell that he was coming after her, and that just made it hurt even more. She knew exactly what he was going to do once he caught up; he would grab her arm, turn her so that she was facing him, and demand to know why she had left so abruptly. She could already feel his eyes piercing into her and the accusations rip through her heart. She knew that this would be a mistake, and she hadn't even had to speak to him to know it.

_Dammit, what the hell is wrong with her? _He began to gain some ground as his legs moved faster, the distance between them closing. Who the hell shows up after four years and then turns around and runs away? Just another question he planned to ask. "Rukia! Stop running, dammit!" Finally, with only about two feet of distance between them, he reached out and took a hold of her arm, whirling her around to face him.

She moved away towards the woods at first, futilely struggling against his iron-like grip. At least the shouting hadn't started yet. He needed only a little force to push her against the nearest tree to she could finally look at his face, something she didn't want to do. She knew that as soon as she saw his piecing amber eyes and scowling face that she wouldn't be able to leave again.

Ichigo's ragged breathing crashed against her face, the panting coming from not only chasing after her, but the initial shock of actually seeing her. He placed one hand loosely on her shoulder to keep her in place and the other on the tree behind her. His eyes were cast downward as he tried to catch his breath, his face hidden by his unruly orange hair. After a few seconds, which felt more like hours for the both of them, he raised himself so that he was towering over her, his eyes studying her intently. "Rukia."

The said shinigami still refused to look up at him, not wanting to cause any more pain for the both of them. Besides, this had all been her fault anyways; she should have known better than to come back and complicate his life ever more than she already had. She had done it once before, and it had nearly gotten him killed several times. It wasn't her place to barge in on the new life he had probably made for himself. One without her, just as it should be. And as much as it hurt, she knew it was the truth. "I…I'm sorry, I never should have come back."

"No." He tightened his grip on her shoulder as she tried to move away, firmly keeping her in place. It wasn't going to happen again; to have her in his grasp, only for her to slip away again…damn, it would be more than he could go through. He wasn't going to put himself through all that again. Her reappearance had reopened wounds, and the only way they could ever fully heal is if she stayed with him. Putting on as serious a face as he could, he began, "You're not going anywhere until we sort this out."

_Oh my god, he must hate me,_ She thought as she kept her eyes cast downward. She couldn't face him; not after four years of being apart with not even a letter sent between them. It was destroying her on the inside just to hear his voice. It had changed in four years; it sounded older. No, not older, just more mature. The voice of someone who had been through and seen more than he had ever wanted to. He didn't sound like the same punk-ass teenager from when she first met him; he sounded like a man.

"Rukia," He murmured gently, lowering his defensive walls and showing a little compassion. "You're not leaving until we talk. I've waited for four years for you to at least _write_; you're not getting away so easily." He didn't mean to sound so harsh, but he couldn't help it. After holding in all these pent-up emotions for so long, it was going to be difficult to speak without some of them leaking out and tainting his words.

_**I heard, heard myself say things I take back. **_

_**If I could, could re-tell and make these stories last. **_

_**I see, see shadows of who we'll always be. **_

_**When I drive, drive these roads that made our memories. **_

"I need to go." Rukia held onto his wrist and tried to pull his hand off of her shoulder, but he didn't budge. Gaining enough courage, she looked up at him and spoke, "Please-" She had to stop herself as her violet orbs made contact with his amber ones. His face hadn't changed at all. The same unruly hair, the fiery amber irises, the scowl that seemed to be permanently etched into his face. If it weren't for their current situation, it probably would have been a welcome sight.

He swallowed loudly, deciding what he should do. He didn't even want to yell at her, although it seemed like the most logical thing for a man to do in his situation. But she almost looked…scared. Scared of him? Of what he might say? He normally didn't care when people looked at him that way, but he couldn't stand it when it came from Rukia. It was like she was expecting him to lash out at her at any moment, and it was more than he could take.

Rukia could tell it was coming; the bitter accusations, the cold rejection. Ichigo had always been short tempered, and when he wanted an explanation, he wouldn't stop until he got one. "I know you're mad, and I know you want to yell, so just go ahead. I probably deserve it."

That took the serious look right off of his face. She honestly thought that he was going to yell at her? And what worried him even more was that it bothered her. They had yelled at each other hundreds of times before, but it was just their own special way of talking. "I'm not angry, and I'm not going to yell." He moved his hand to the crook of her neck, using his thumb to keep her head tilted to his. "I just want to know why."

"W-why?" Why what? She had probably done so many things to him that needed an explanation that she didn't know which one he was talking about.

"Why did you run away?" There was an almost mournful tinge to his baritone voice, something she had rarely ever heard from him. That hint of sadness that made you wonder what was troubling him. Only now it was very obvious what was troubling him.

"The Soul Society's where I belong." She didn't even believe the words. She hadn't believed them four years ago, either. "I can't stay-"

Ichigo shook his head. "I don't mean four years ago. I mean four _minutes _ago. I mean," He felt like he was about to go hysterical, but kept himself contained. "I don't see you in forever, and when I finally do, you run away from me. Why did you do that?"

"It…it's complicated. I didn't think you cared anymore, so I just guessed that-"

"I didn't care?" How badly had he screwed up to make her think that he didn't care? He cared more than he ever had. He had lost her once, and had almost lost her again. Hell yes, he cared. "It's gonna take a little more than that to get me to leave."

"Look, just drop it, alright?" She coldly pushed his hand off of her shoulder, deciding that maybe if she closed herself off from him, then she'd just anger him enough to let her go. "I'll go back and leave you alone. It's apparent that you don't care about me anymore."

"Bullshit!" Ichigo couldn't help but yell; the words she had spoken had been so blasphemous that he could hardly believe them. He grasped her arm and pushed her back up against the tree, grabbing her chin and forcefully making her look at him. "Why the hell _wouldn't _I care? You left me without a word, a note, an e-mail; nothing! So why, _why_, wouldn't I care."

"Because you probably hate me!" That made them both freeze; Rukia with the sheer force of actually saying the words, and Ichigo from the sheer force of hearing the words. _Hate? _That seemed like such a strong word coming from her. Why would he hate her? The words stung his heart and tore through his chest like a bullet. There was a dull sort of numbness that mixed with the sharp pain, a combination of guilt and confusion and anger at himself.

"Why…_how _could I hate you?" Ichigo asked in complete disbelief. If he hadn't wanted answers before, he sure as hell did as soon as the words left her mouth. Rukia had never cared what others thought of her, especially not Ichigo. So why did his feelings matter all of a sudden? They never had before, and quite frankly, he felt as if this situation wouldn't have occurred had they had remained that way.

"You said it yourself." She replied solemnly, almost guiltily, "I left without a word. Why _wouldn't _you hate me?"

"That's a good question." Ichigo admitted, removing his hand from her shoulder and putting it against the tree. "With all honesty, I should hate you. You can ask anyone, and they'll tell you how much I've changed since you left four years ago. And on top of all that," He used his free hand to rub at the back of his head, "You tried to run away from me the moment I saw you."

"So why don't you hate me?" She had caused him so much pain, so much despair, and he could look at her with a strange semi-smirk and say truthfully that he didn't hate her.

"Why do you _want_ me to hate you?" Ichigo shouted incredulously, the small shinigami's disbelief at his refusal to resent her not making any sense to him whatsoever.

She truly didn't want him to hate her, and it was somewhat relieving to know that, however displeased he may be, he didn't hate her. But she hated _herself _for what she had done, which was why she hadn't tried to face him in the past four years. "I don't…I don't want you to hate me, but I just don't understand why you don't."

That was tricky; he had never really thought about why he didn't hate her. He just _didn't_. "I…I just don't, alright. What's with all the damn questions anyways?" He added with the slightest tinges of humor.

_That _was the Ichigo she remembered. The scowling delinquent who couldn't stand to be given the third degree. It made her give a small smile, seeing the hint of playfulness glistening in his brown eyes.

He looked away, one of his rare small smiles playing at his lips, before subtly turning serious again. "Let's just get this cleared up right now; sure, I'm not pleased by the fact that you ran away from me twice, but that doesn't mean that I'm going to _hate _you. Now, why the hell, after ditching me for four years, would you run away _again_?"

Rukia shrugged slightly, diverting her gaze from his eyes once again. "I don't know, really. I just guessed that you had started a new life; had a girlfriend, maybe a wife and kids. I just guess that you had forgotten about me and moved on."

_How the hell could I forget about you? _That was exactly what he wanted to say, but the words couldn't leave his mouth. It was that pride, that stupid, damned pride that kept getting in his way, and was doing so once again. This had been a bittersweet reunion for him, and, he was quite sure, for her too. Her voice, a solemn mixture of remorse and apprehensions inquiry, pulled him from his thoughts, "Do you regret that you saw me again?"

The question tore his heart in two. Regret was the last thing he had felt when he saw her. Surprise was the first, followed by an insatiable appetite for the truth. Maybe some shock and heart ache to go along with it all, but god almighty, not _regret_. "The _hell_ kind of a question is _that_?"

The rage was back, she noticed. No, maybe not rage; the kind of stern anger in which a father would scold his child. "I reopened your wounds and rubbed salt in them; isn't that reason enough for you to regret it?"

"Hell no, it's not." His eyes were hard again; hard and cold. It was good to see that he hadn't gone soft in the past four years, but it hurt to be given that look by him. "You're taking me in circles, Rukia. I keep telling you that this isn't a bad thing, and you're trying to tell me that it is."

_**When we were only kids, **_

_**And our time couldn't end, **_

_**And how tall did we stand, **_

_**With the world in our hands. **_

Even though his statement was truthful, Rukia still felt as if she had hurt him by returning, probably widening the hole that she had undeniably left. But, unlike she had predicted, there had been no pain in his normally cold amber eyes, no shards of resentment or malice. Just the initial surprise, some small amount of humor being found in the way his jaw had dramatically dropped and the cigarette that had fallen to the ground, followed by pure astonishment and disbelief.

The minutes of silence were deafening to the both of them, neither one trying to make eye contact with the other. The sun was already nearly under the horizon, and the only source of light was the rapidly fading sun and the full moon. As soon as she realized this, Rukia put her hand on his arm, pulling his hand from her shoulder, "I'm sorry, but I have to go back. Ukitake-taichou will be wondering where I have gone."

"No." There was nothing but cold, sharp anger and firmness in the statement. His grip on her shoulder tightened considerably, and she found herself startled by the way his reiatsu flared. Hs eyes burned like fiery coals, but it wasn't anger towards her; it was consuming rage towards the statement. "Not again. Not after four years. I don't care what Ukitake or your brother says. I'll fight off the whole damn Soul Society all over again before I let you go."

"Ichigo-" That was when she felt it; something inside of her broke apart, shattered into a million pieces. It was the exact reason she hadn't spoken his name at all that night, or since she had left. She had managed to keep from letting his name come into her words or invade her thoughts, but it had all come crashing down with a foolish slip of the tongue. She knew right then and there that, by saying his name, she would never be able to let herself go back to the Soul Society.

"You just acknowledged that it hurt me when you left, so please," He said, not even trying to hide the desperation from his plea, "Please don't leave."

Rukia had never heard him sound so broken hearted, so utterly _defeated_, that it nearly broke her in two. She put her hand on his and gently pulled it off of her shoulder, wondering if it would be the only time she could ever be able to hold his hand. She could tell that the gesture comforted him to some degree, and found that it did the same for her. "Ichigo, _please_," Each time his name tumbled from he lips was like a shockwave pulsing through her body, the simple word making her regret her actions even more, "You're making this harder than it has to b-"

She was cut off by a pair of pair of warm lips meeting hers in mid-sentence. It was a surprise, to say the least, but certainly not an unwelcome one as soon as she regained her bearings. It was nothing more than a brush of lips, his ghosting over hers very lightly. Nothing lust filled or passionate, no groping or bodies pressed against each other. It was…innocent.

Rukia pulled back, her hands reaching up to grip the shoulders of his jacket in an attempt to steady herself. "Four years, Rukia." Ichigo murmured, his hand reaching up to cup her face. "Four years. That's how long I've waited to do that. You don't know how much I've wanted to do at least that much." He stroked her face with his thumb, savoring how unbelievably soft her skin was.

There was no way she could turn away from him again, especially after the way he had just kissed her. She had never felt so torn before. She wanted--_no, needed_-- to stay with him, but how would her brother accept this? Would he and Renji come after her again? Would they let her remain with Ichigo? She wanted to think that it would be the latter, but after what had happened between all of them before her execution, she truly didn't know.

As if he had been reading her thoughts, Ichigo spoke with the kind of defiance that she clearly remembered him having, "Let them come; let all of them come. I don't care. I'll fight them all off a thousand times over. I'll never let them get you, because," Defiance was replaced by pure sincerity, "I love you."

As soon as he said that, as soon as the words left his mouth, she didn't care anymore; she didn't care if Renji or Byakuya or even the entire Gotei 13 came after them. She knew that he'd never let go of her, not even if he had only an ounce of strength left in his body. That gave her consolation that, whether it be his feelings or his pure disregard towards the rules of the Soul Society, they would stay together.

"I love you, Rukia." He whispered, his arms enveloping in an embrace that neither of them would want to leave, "I'll never let you go."


	7. Her Guardian Angel

_I wrote this in about one day, so now my fingers are really tired. I'd been really busy all last week studying for mid-term exams when I had planned on writing this chapter, so the only chance I truly had to write before today was yesterday. Forgive me if it seems sloppy, but I wanted to keep up with my own tradition of having a Christmas-themed chapter in one of my stories. Also, my beta writer's on a vacation, so that pretty much leaves me and my word-blind eyes to proofread. The only content rating I can think to put up is that there's some language and blood._

_I wish you all a very merry Christmas and a happy new year!!! _

* * *

_**December 24, 2007 **_

_**6:00 PM**_

It had ended with an argument. The worst fight he could ever remember them having had driven him out of his own apartment and into the deathly cold snow laying upon the desolate streets of Karakura. A dull, colorless wasteland of his own creation surrounded him as he slowly, sullenly, walked down the street, but to where, he did not know. He just had to get away, clear his head, find some way to make what had happened between them better. Kurosaki Ichigo wanted desperately to erase everything that had happened within the past hour, to get rid of the emotional wounds that the caustic words passed between them had caused.

Seeing the empty streets only caused his disparity to increase threefold. All of the city's inhabitants were at home with their families, curled up on their couches watching the dying embers of a fire smoldering in a hearth. Everyone except him. A typical Christmas eve for him since his mother had died basically consisted of him being alone, much like how he was as he roamed down the side of the road, in terrible, awful silence. He had had someone to spend it with this year, someone who he genuinely cared about, and he had blown it. Christ, how he had _ruined _it! Not just for himself, but for Rukia, who, much like him, had never truly had anyone to spend the winter holiday with.

_Merry Christmas, indeed._

And he hadn't tried to reconcile, to make anything alright and as it should have been. He had simply gone with the flow of the altercation, yelling back the first biting retorts that had come to his mind. He had slammed his fist on the table, punched the walls, waved his hands in the air, just to make some big dramatic show of a petty disagreement. Never once had he thought of controlling his flaring temper and keeping his mouth shut tight, not even when he knew that the fight would inevitably be taken too far. As far as he had been concerned, the entire ordeal had been her fault. But he had known that it had been his stupid, damned pride that kept him from apologizing.

"Dammit." He murmured brokenly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat and crossing the road, knowing very well that, though the sign was red, no cars would be driving down the road on that day. Everything had been his fault. The fight, the hateful words--for god's sake, her _execution_--all of the blame rested squarely on his shoulders. And what did he have to show for all of his mistakes? Nothing. He had once had something, and about and hour ago, he had lost it. Only an expert at destroying every good thing in his life could have managed to ruin the relationship.

It wouldn't be something that could be fixed with mere words, simple apologies made only moments after an argument. It would take a lot, and he feared that it would be more than he had. Perhaps it had taken this heart-wrenching experience for him to realize that he wasn't good enough, that he didn't have enough compassion to handle a relationship. He had never been the kindest of souls, nor the most tolerable, and it had finally come back to bite him in his ass. He'd lost the one single grasp on reality that he had ever possessed, and he could already tell that it wouldn't be long before that reality slipped away and would leave him vulnerable to one of his inner hollow's merciless onslaughts of mental anguish and pain.

Spotting a payphone on the street corner, he reluctantly walked up to it and grasped the frigid metal bar of the glass door handle and pulled it open. His hand reached into the pocket of his pants, searching slowly for whatever spare change there was. He slowly pulled out the twenty-eight yen that was required for the call and slid the chilled coins into the open slot on the machine. There was a long period of hesitation where he debated on whether or not he should call Rukia. The words that he felt would be wise to speak could not come to him, only prolonging the uncomfortable period of time in which he couldn't make himself pick up the payphone and dial in the numbers. _Coward_, he silently scolded himself.

Swallowing deeply, he picked up the phone and reluctantly pressed in the numbers. His mind raced frantically, trying to come up with something, _anything_, that he could say without harming the already damaged situation. There was a ring as the connection was made, and he began to count down the seconds until she would pick up, if she even did pick it up. One ring, two rings, three rings…the answering machine sounded through the earpiece as he sighed in defeat, slamming the phone onto the vertical cradle.

He shoved the door open and stalked back into the bitter cold of the unforgiving world. The self-pity had then been replaced by self-loathing. His stupidity, it seemed, would continue to enrage him until the day he died. The blame was all on him this time, and it made him want to throw himself out in front of a speeding car. And the simple fact that the words he had carelessly thrown back had undoubtedly cut her deeply had been where the true guilt came from. It was the fact that he had hurt her, the only person he couldn't live without.

_You stupid, stupid, son of a bitch,_ he thought as he slammed his head up against the glass walls of the payphone booth in furious frustration. His increasing agony was only fueled further by the fact that he knew he could have weathered the storm, that he could have suffered through the argument silently. Then it would have ended the same way their fights always did; they would stare at each other, eyes wide, before being thrown into a laughing fit, in humorous disbelief at how easily they had allowed things to get so out of hand. Then, while they would be doubled over in laughter, he would allow himself to momentarily become out of character by kissing her and apologizing, the rare glint of happiness in his amber eyes.

But there would be none of that, at least not that day. Pride was no longer an issue--he was too ashamed of himself to go back and even try to make amends. The fear of only worsening the situation was another factor that kept him from turning around and heading back to the apartment. It was all too typical of him to make something worse, to crush it underneath the heavy weight of his own idiocy.

His shinigami badge, which he had forgotten he even had, began to ring within his back pocket. He concentrated, searching the area for any abnormal reiatsu, scanning the entire circumference of the city for anything that would stand out. After several seconds of searching, he finally felt it. It was faint, nearly untraceable, probably due to its distance from where he was standing rather than its strength. Not wasting any time, he shoved the badge against his chest and dragged his body behind a barrier wall on the street front side of an empty lot.

His zanpakuto straddling his back, he ran quickly back the way he came, trying to hone in on the location of the hollow. The farther back towards the apartment he ran, the more powerful the hollow's reiatsu was becoming. A sudden, horrifying thought ran through his head as he jumped a brick wall. It was becoming apparent that the hollow was extremely close to where he and Rukia lived, and if she had gotten the call from the Soul Society…_No, dammit, stop thinking like that! She'll be able to hold out until I get there,_ he shouted at himself, trying desperately to push the dark thoughts into the back of his mindscape. But the hollow was powerful, its strength larger than that of a menos grande's, but it did not seem like an arrancar's.

As the street intersected with another, he turned quickly and skidded into the road, jumping over a parked car and continuing his frantic sprinting down the sidewalk. He reached back and grabbed his sword, quickly discarding the bandages encompassing the metal blade, ready to fight the moment he arrived on the battle site. Another turn, another jump, and a few more blocks to the north and he would be there. He cursed as he felt Rukia's reiatsu flare, the hollow following suite in preparation for the battle only seconds away.

He turned down an alleyway and emerged into an open snow-covered field several blocks east of the apartment, sword poised. A hollow the size of a monumental building stood in the center of the open space, the tips of its tentacles sharpened to a killing edge. A few yards away, Rukia stood facing the monster, her zanpakuto already released into shikai. The difference in their power was greatly significant, Ichigo noted in terror as she prepared to run across the field to initiate the battle. She would be killed in less than five minutes, and the fact that she didn't realize it only frightened him more. "Rukia! Get the hell out of there!"

She turned to look at him, disobeying his command, and shouted back, "Don't break my concentration, fool! Are you trying to get us both killed?" Her eyes snapped back towards the hollow as it lunged at her, dodging one of its talons by mere centimeters. "Stay back, Ichigo! I can handle this!" She ran at it and swung her sword, severing it's right leg and eliciting an ear-piercing shriek from the demon. Falling back to a defensive position, she waited for the hollow to make another move, one that would give her the opening she needed.

"You _idiot_! You're going to get killed!" He ran out onto the field and stabbed the monster in its ribcage, dragging the blade through its flesh and yanking it out as the creature spit a green, acidic liquid at him.

She knew very well that the hollow was stronger than her, and that she wouldn't be able to handle the fight for much longer. But she didn't want his help, not after what she had said to him. She knew that she had hurt him terribly, and she couldn't stand the thought of having to ask for his assistance when he was probably still angry. There was nothing that she could have said to him that would have wounded him even more, that would have given his eyes an unbearable coating of sorrow.

"_Why the hell are we fighting over this?" _He had shouted incredulously, his voice rising with each word.

"_Because you were stupid enough to start it!"_

"_Oh, I see. So now it's _my _fault. How typical!"_

"_Yes, it's your fault, idiot."_

"_What the hell crawled up your butt and died?"_

"_Your attitude, that's what!"_ She could have stopped it right then and there, she thought as the hollow recovered from the wounds they had given it and staggered across the frosted lot. Had things been put to an end at that point, it all would have turned out alright. They worked as a team, and one fighting without the other was like the body working without its soul. It would fail, plain and simple. Despite how self-sufficient the both of them thought they were, they knew that they wouldn't be able to make it without each other.

Yet, the argument had progressed, and though each of them had both known that it was becoming too ferocious, neither of them had made a move to stop it. But neither of them had wanted to give in or be proven wrong, especially Rukia. And neither of them had ever excelled at controlling their words or tempers, which is where the entire predicament had started to roll down-hill. The fight had raged on for at least thirty minutes before Ichigo had finally slammed his fist down on the table, having had enough of the bickering.

"_What the hell are we doing? It's Christmas eve, for god's sake!"_

"_What the hell are _you_ doing? All you had to do was answer yes or no instead of making some smart-ass remark!"_

"_Whatever. You're beginning to make me regret saving you. Maybe I should have listened to your brother instead of condemning myself to a lifetime of this!" _Almost as soon as the words had left his mouth, he had regretted them. She had seen it in his eyes, they way they had widened in shock of his own words only a fraction of a second before her own words sliced through his heart like a sword.

"_I wish he would have just killed you the first time and finished the job!" _She hadn't meant it at all. They had only been words spoken in the heat of the moment, a retort to his own carelessly made statement. The second immediately after she had spoken was when she had truly realized what her words had done. He hadn't looked angry or resentful, but hurt. She had never seen him look so broken before, nor had she ever seen his eyes look at her in such a way as they had at that moment. She had reached out, gently touching his shoulder, remorse showing in her eyes.

"_Ichigo, I-"_

"_No, it's alright." _He had moved away slowly, distancing himself from her before putting on his coat and walking over to the door, sliding his badge into his back pocket. He had smiled sadly, looking back at her with shimmering, pained brown eyes and said, _"I guess you're right. I wish he had killed me, too." _And with that, he had stepped outside the door and into the frozen streets of the city. What kind of person said that to someone they loved? No one worth being with, and as far as Rukia was concerned, that was exactly what she was.

She looked at him from across the field, lowering her sword as the hollow stumbled into a chain-link fence. His eyes met hers, and the moment seemed to come to a stop. He saw everything; the remorse for wishing him dead, the anger at herself, the sadness she had caused the both of them. And in return, she saw the same emotions as he prepared to unleash his bankai. Though no smile was shared, she could tell simply by looking into his amber orbs that he had forgiven her. He nodded, his attention diverted from the enemy who had regained its stance and quickly limped towards him. She saw the monster charging at him and ran at it, only to loose her footing as it dodged her attack and fell to the ground. "Ichigo, look out!" She called out in horror as one of the hollow's tentacles flew in his direction.

The man caught the attack with the flat side of his blade, grunting as the force of the blow pushed him back several inches. He shoved the talon off of his sword and ran towards the hollow, not even bothering to release his zanpakuto to its final stage. More acidic saliva was spat at him, causing him to jump to the side to avoid the burning liquid. As he turned his head in mid-air, his eyes widened as one of the tentacles came at him with enough force to snap an average man's spine. He was hit in the torso and was sent flying into the side of a stone building, yelling as he felt one of his ribs break and pierce his lungs.

Rukia charged at the hollow, sword raised in the air to deliver the fatal blow to the skull that would kill it. It threw one of its arms up, the limb severing as her blade sliced through it, barely missing her target. The demon turned and smashed its remaining hand into her small body, deciding to devote the entirety of its murderous intent on her instead of the shinigami who had just unburied himself from the pile of rubble and smashed glass the impact had created.

"Get away from her, you_ son of a bitch_!" He roared angrily as he ran at the hollow. It would end right there. She wouldn't die, but he would, solely for her sake. She was everything to him, the reason he lived day after day in spite of the countless times he had wanted so desperately to give up. She gave him hope, comfort, a place where he could reveal the side of him that hadn't been shown to the world in so many years. He would die with a smile on his face, knowing that the last act he took was to do what he felt he had been born to do--protect someone that he loved.

Ichigo felt the searing pain as the tentacle cut into his shoulder and sliced through the flesh of his upper torso with an agonizing slowness that made him nearly scream out in anguish. He managed to open his tightly-shut eyes and look at the monster standing before him. "You…damn…_bastard_." The end of the sentence was cut off by a violent cough that spilled blood from his mouth and shook his body with ferocious intensity. "You made one terrible mistake…by going…after her. I'm sending your sorry ass...to _hell_." And using the last bit of strength his body possessed, he drove his blade from the creature's shoulder and through it's skull, watching as it fell onto the snow and dissolved into the overcast sky.

He swayed, eyes drooping partially shut, before he staggered to the side and shoved his sword into the ground to support his weight. He coughed again, blood dripping down his chin and staining the pure white snow. The shallow breaths that were emitted from his slightly parted lips had become unstable and erratic as his vision faded and cleared, a feeling of nausea boiling up from within his stomach. He watched as his blood flowed from the deep gash in his chest and onto the ground, finally slumping over in exhaustion.

Rukia caught him and gently lowered him onto the snow-covered field, her eyes wide in disbelief at what he had just done. She couldn't stand to see him so defeated, so powerless, when he was one of the strongest people she had ever known. Resting his head on her lap, she began to gently run her fingers through his hair, watching as his eyes slowly opened to reveal a listless pair of amber irises hidden beneath his lids. He seemed so weak that he couldn't even manage to blink or move his fingers, which only worried her further. "I am so sorry." She murmured as she pressed her forehead against his in anguish.

"N-No." He whispered, his voice strangled as more blood bubbled up in his throat. "You…you've got nothing…t-to be…sorry for." His hand reached up and touched her face, his eyes slowly beginning to regain color and life. He winced as she moved her hand over the wound, clenching the torn fabric of his shihakusho shut in an attempt to stanch the flow of the vile red liquid. He put his hand over hers, holding it still before murmuring, "I…I sh-shoulda stopped the fight…when I had the chance. I would have gladly…gone through all of…that pain again…to rescue you."

"I didn't mean any of it, Ichigo. I'm so, so sorry." She kissed his brow softly, cradling his head with her shaking hands. She held his hand tightly as he reached up, his cold fingertips running over her face in an attempt to comfort her. He had always been that way; even when he was the one who needed to be comforted, he would always make sure that she was taken care of first. "I was so stupid. I shouldn't have said any of that."

"Y-You had every right…to say that. I was being an idiot." He was silenced as she shook her head, shushing the words she couldn't bear to hear. This wasn't the way he wanted to go, with her on the verge of tears and himself bleeding to death in the snow on Christmas eve. And he would be damned if he didn't fight death with everything he had, but he knew that he could only go so far before it was completely out of his hands. "What…what're you crying for?" He coughed as he gave a pained smile as he cupped her face and looked into her tear-filled eyes.

"Because I did this to you." She kissed the palm of his hand, holding it against the side of her face.

"Bullshit." Ichigo growled firmly, though the attempt at a sound statement had hurt his injury even more. "You can't take…the credit for this one."

"If I hadn't said any of that, if I hadn't driven you out, then none of this would have happened." To her, that was the truth. If she hadn't of wished him dead, then he wouldn't have left and he wouldn't have been laying on the ground, bleeding profusely from a wound he had endured for her sake. She had torn his heart apart and yet he continued to shed his own blood for her without hesitation.

"Th-the hollow was…still going to come." He looked up at her in consolation before adding, "This…this would have happened…regardless."

Though she didn't believe a word of it, she wouldn't peruse with trying to place the blame on herself. She took the hand that was over the gash in his chest and moved it to his side, replacing it wither her own. "I'm going to try and heal you."

"D-Don't." He coughed again, spasms of pain shooting through his body as it shook violently against hers. "You…you barely have any…reiatsu left. Don't worry…'bout me."

She ignored his futile protests and placed her hand against the wound, sickened by the feeling of his blood spilling out over her fingers, blood he wouldn't have shed had she not been there. "I didn't mean what I said." Came the broken murmur from her lips as her reiatsu began to slowly pour into the gash. "Don't die, Ichigo. _Please_, don't die." She felt his breathing begin to even out after several minutes, and the flow of blood from his chest subside into a trickle.

"I think…you've saved me again." The grogginess had left his voice, though he still sounded like there was virtually no life left within him. He smiled, taking several deep breaths to try and ease the pain that still lingered in his torso, and stroked her face with the pad of his thumb as a stray tear rolled down her cheek. But he could take comfort in the fact that the tear had been shed out of happiness rather than sorrow. "I'm…not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"Promise." He vowed, leaning up and kissing her gently as the soft snow fell around them. And it was at that exact moment when she realized what he truly was to her.

He was her guardian angel.


End file.
